Pavement Cracks
by FeistyFeist
Summary: Continuance of Changing Tides. Back from the war, Pony realizes not all things will go back to the way they were before...including himself. Now completed!
1. Chapter 1

Give this girl a medal! C'mon three updates in one day. Yes, I am a loser. Well, hopefully you all don't think so, since writing does give me so much happiness. Now if I could only make myself write a story with my OWN characters then I would be in business.

To any new readers: This is part three in my other stories: Sugar and Grits and Changing Tides.

So….here is the new story. Who knows where it shall go…but go it shall.

Enjoy. And please review.

Disclaimer: I own no characters. S.E. Hinton owns the Outsiders.

XXXX

"Because he's droppin', droppin', droppin' science, droppin' history

With a whole leap of style and intelligency

Yes, I know."

---

"So let the words of our mouth

And the meditations of our hearts

Be acceptable in thy sight

Override"

---Both songs by Sublime

XXXX

_A black, mist swirled about me. I choked on it, tears springing to my eyes. Despair filled my body and I tripped as I turned to run from the darkness. With force, I hauled myself up, only this time to come face to face with a Viet cong. Blindly I reached for my gun and fired. _

_The dead body turned to Crock. And then Soda. And then Darry. _

"_No!" I screamed. I was lost. I kept running but was getting nowhere. I could feel the hot breath of my pursuers at my heels. _

_Suddenly, they were in front of me. Multitudes of them, shapeless, faceless figures. One of them reached its hand out. It drew back, blood covering it. Glancing down in horror, I saw my stomach coated in redness._

_Black and red. The only colors I could see. I could feel them too._

"_Noo-ooo," I moaned. Again the hand reached out, the muzzle of a gun touching my forehead. _

_It went off with a bang._

"No!" I screamed wildly. Still half-asleep, I jerked and tumbled off the bed, smacking the floor. "I don't want to die," I cried. "Please don't…" I wailed, burning up.

Through my consciousness I heard Darry say with alarm, "Soda, wake him up."

"I'm trying! He won't wake up! Darry!" Shaky hands were around me trying to calm me down. "Darry, he's really warm. Pone, c'mon…"

Suddenly, I was pulled into a sitting position and shook hard. My head snapped back. I gasped and went limp, my breath coming in short, shallow spurts. "Am I dead?" I whispered woozily. My eyes focused to see Darry kneeling in front of me, holding me up.

"No, you're not dead, baby. You're not." Darry scooped me up, dropping me back into bed. My head bobbed towards Soda who was balanced tentatively on the side of the bed. He stroked my sweaty hair.

"I should be dead. I really should, Dallas," I mumbled incoherently. Soda was putting me to sleep again. I wanted to tell him to stop; I didn't want any more nightmares.

XXXX

Quietly the next morning, I showered. It was my third day home and I had already had a nightmare. Until last night, things had been relatively uneventful. Darry, Soda and I were all just glad to be together. And I got the feeling that Two-Bit and Steve were glad to be included. However, except for the briefest mentions, we had all avoided speaking about Vietnam. I didn't know if I was avoiding it, or they were.

My scar from the bullet was still fresh and I gingerly skirted it while washing. I had also taken care to dress in private. I didn't want anyone to see my scar. It didn't bring back good memories.

I changed and resumed my old habits: five aspirin swallowed in quick succession.

Exiting the bathroom, I heard Soda and Darry speaking in low voices. I stood still, listening.

"God Dar, I didn't think he'd wake up."

Darry sighed. "I know. I hope I didn't hurt him. I didn't know how else to pull him together." He paused and then said, "This was bad."

"Yeah. Shoot, I don't know what scared me most. Him screaming bloody murder or talking about dying."

"I know the feeling," Darry said softly.

"Did you hear him ask for Dallas?" Soda spoke lowly.

Silently, without awaiting an answer, I tried to tiptoe back to the room. Let them talk some more. However, turning quickly, I ended up slamming myself into a wall. "Son-of-a-bitch! God damn wall," I muttered bitterly.

"Pony?" Darry and Soda came out of the kitchen. Soda carried a slice of chocolate cake in his hand, Darry a cup of coffee. They watched me worriedly.

"Morning," I said, moving past them into the kitchen. "Sleep well?"

"Um, Pony," Darry began, following me. "Do you remember last night?"

"Yeah, I do. Sorry for waking you."

Soda sat on the counter. "You know you never have to be sorry for that." Flashing him a smile, I pulled open the fridge, scanning the contents.

"You want breakfast before I take off?" Darry asked, pouring himself some more coffee.

"Nah, I'm just thirsty." Reaching up into the cabinet, I took down a glass. Suddenly, the front door slammed shut, Two-Bit and Steve talking in the background.

_Bang_

_The noise a gun makes_

My hands shook and I jumped, dropping the glass. It hit the floor, shattering everywhere. Forgetting my ribs, I tried to kneel down and clean up the mess. Sucking in a breath, I winced, my arm going protectively to my side. Soda winced too.

"Hey all," Two-Bit greeted, stopping when he saw me. He raised an eyebrow at Darry.

"I'll get it." Darry told me, grabbing the dustpan. Then he looked at me closely. "You're white as a ghost. Sit down." I complied, dropping into a chair. I watched my hands shake underneath the table.

"Hey man," Steve said to Soda. "Ready to go?" He glanced at me carelessly. "Hurt again?" He sounded tough, although I could tell he was joking, trying to not lose some of our previous 'dislike'. After all, he did have a rep to keep.

"So what's on the agenda today Pone? Your first day home alone?" Soda teased, trying to ignore Steve.

I leaned back, looking pointedly at my brother's best friend. "Oh you know the usual. Run into a wall, throw myself down a flight of stairs, perhaps jump in front of a bus." Steve stood wide-eyed at that, not knowing what to say.

Instantly, the room was silent. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Darry pale and straighten up. Two-Bit whistled loudly. "I'll probably just go to a movie," I added hoarsely. "I haven't seen one in a while."

"Here's some money." Soda pushed five dollars in my palm. I stared at it guiltily.

"Ahem." Two-Bit held out his hand.

"You gotta work for that Two-Bit," Darry said, tossing the glass into the trashcan.

"What did the kid do?" Two-Bit mock complained.

"I worked to get my ass back here," I shot at him, as I irritably left the room. Throwing myself on the couch, I thumbed through an outdated magazine. I felt bad at my annoyance. Not knowing what had caused it. Probably the nightmare.

I could hear Soda arguing with Steve. "Why did you have to say that?" I rubbed my brow.

"Lets get to work," Darry interrupted them. He came into the living room, grabbing up his gear.

"Be careful if you go out," he said looking down at me. I knew what he was thinking. I couldn't run too fast if the Socs came after me.

"I will. I'll see you later tonight." I smiled at him, trying to be less irritable. Darry seemed relieved at that; as if he'd come home and I'd be gone again.

"Now that your back," Two-Bit said rubbing his hands together gleefully, "I have someone to wrestle with."

"Don't you dare," Darry said semi-angrily. He looked poised to pounce if Two-Bit made a move.

Soda messed my hair up as he left, Steve avoiding eye contact. Two-Bit noticed and smirked. "Looks like you scared off Stevie boy." He rocked on his heels. "So, what shall we do today gimpy?"

"You still don't have a job?" I asked incredulously.

"What can I say? My mom spoils me." I threw the magazine at him, smacking him in the stomach.

"A movie."

"Are you sure you're up for it? I mean-" He stopped short at my glare. "Ok, ok. A movie it is."

XXXX

I am exhausted. No more writing for me tonight. Hope this will tide you over.

Also: I need your honest opinions…this could go either way…but should I just keep in PB's POV? I like switching characters to get different reactions…but am not sure for this story. What do you think?


	2. Chapter 2

New chappie! Review please-thanks to all who did earlier! Will send shout outs later! Peace!

XXXX

"Christ you know it ain't easy

You know how hard it can be

The way things are going

They're going to crucify me"

-Lennon/McCartney

XXXX

"So what shall we do after that fun filled shit fest?" Two-Bit asked shuffling his feet outside of the movie theater. I chuckled. The movie had been pretty bad. "What a waste of five bucks," he griped.

"What are you talking about? I paid for you! I should be the one complaining."

"Hey, I saw an opportunity and I took it." Strolling along, Two-Bit walked backwards facing me. Apprehensively, my eyes trailed his feet; I didn't want him to trip over anything and break his neck. "Want to swing by the DX? See Soda?"

I shook my head. "Nah. I'm mighty tired. Thought I'd head home. Take a nap. Start some dinner." _Alone_, I added silently.

Two-Bit stared blankly at me. "Wow, you're full of excitement."

"See," I poked his shoulder. "That's why you should get a job. So you have some entertainment in your life." I kicked a lone can down the sidewalk and into the gutter. "Shoot, what did you do when I was gone?"

"Annoy your brothers."

"Lucky them."

"Well, how does it feel to be back? Breathe in that fresh Tulsa air?" He sucked in a breath, choked on it and then snorted. Leave it to him.

Shrugging, I begin to focus on my own feet. "Weird. Like I don't…belong."

Startled, Two-Bit stopped in his tracks. "Well, I don't know what gave you that hare- brained idea, but you do. Belong here."

"I suppose," I began, hesitating if I wanted to bare my soul on a Tulsa street corner to Two-Bit Mathews. "It's just that I don't know what I'm going to do. I can't work too hard," I gestured to my ribs. "School's out in three months, so no point going back now. And Darry and Soda don't want to let me out of the house," I finished frustratingly.

"Can you really blame them? You're a walking disaster."

"You're no help," I snapped exasperatedly. I guess that's what I got for telling Two-Bit anything serious.

He seemed to read my thoughts because his face lost its jolly glow. "Just take it easy for a while. You've been going, going, going for so long."

"That's the problem. I can't slow down. Hell, maybe I'll just re-enlist." A sly smile appeared on my face as I watched Two-Bit sweat.

"Hey-no fair playing dirty," he lectured.

At the crosswalk, I took a right, leaving him standing by the fire hydrant. I turned around and shouted. "I'm going home." I pointed to the hydrant. "Piss on that for a while!"

Parting ways, I knew I was most definitely not going home. But I had no idea where I to go. So I settled on walking. It was at least exercise, I reasoned with myself. As I huffed along, my hands kept toying with my dog tags. Stopping in mid-stride, I realized something I needed to do.

I backtracked until I found the nearest phone booth. Throwing myself inside, I leaned my forehead against the glass, watching my breath fog up in a small circle. Flipping through the phone book, I found what I wanted and began my walk through Soc territory.

XXXX

The west side of town was still the same. Nice homes, mustangs, money. I scanned the houses and found the one I wanted: 651. Standing in front of it, I took a deep breath. This wasn't what Darry would call 'using my head'. I said a silent apology to him for once again not listening and stepped up to the mansion. Well, compared to our house it was a mansion.

I rang the doorbell and stood nervously. This is stupid. Stupid, stupid.

The door opened and an older woman with long black hair stared back at me. She brushed aside her bangs, her green eyes evaluating my appearance. "Yes? Can I help you?" I suddenly felt dirty and wiped at my gray t-shirt self-consciously.

"Umm…are you Tom's mother? Mrs. Nichols?"

The light in her eyes flicked back on. "I am. Are you a friend of his?" She opened the door wider.

"I met him over in Vietnam."

"Please come in," she breathed. I let her usher me into the living room, for fear of breaking anything. She sat across from me, waiting eagerly. "I'm Karen. Karen Nichols."

"Ponyboy Curtis."

Cocking her head, "That sounds familiar." She stared off into space and then focused on me again. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No thank you ma'am."

"So, you know Tom from the war?" _War_ came out bitterly.

"School, actually."

"Oh were you friends? I think I would have remembered someone with your name."

"Um. Not really." More like bitter enemies, but I wasn't going to tell her that.

I didn't know how to say this. Or how she'd react. All that I was certain about was that if I knew someone had been with my parents when they died, I'd want them to tell me about it. "He was with me on his last mission. He-your son saved my life."

"Tom?" she said tearfully.

"Yes. I saw him die," I choked out. "I thought you'd want to know." I braced myself for whatever was to come.

"Did-did he say anything else?"

"He spoke about his brother. He missed him."

She nodded, dazed. "So do I. Both of them."

I swallowed thickly. All of a sudden, I didn't feel up to this. I didn't feel too hot. "I should be going. I hope I didn't…upset you…" I finished lamely. It was five o'clock. Darry'd be home soon.

Mrs. Nichols followed me to the door saying, "Lord no." Tears dripped down her face and I stepped away from her, guilty at causing her pain. "My husband won't even mention their names," she hissed angrily. "It feels good to speak about them. Actually acknowledge their presence."

Then she hugged me. A soc hugging a grease. Now that was a Kodak moment.

I stumbled out the front door and down the steps. That five-minute conversation had scared me shitless.

XXXX

I managed to scrounge together a quick meal before Darry and Soda got home. Spaghetti and salad; easy and nutritious. While waiting for them, I tried to scrawl out a few letters to Crock and Shepard.

_Hey Crocker,_

_How's it going back there? I'm sure your doing better than I am. Let's just say I can't run as fast as I could when I first met you._

_You would not believe what I did today. Remember Tom Nichols-_

That was as far as I got because I fell asleep. When I woke next, Darry was standing over me. "Hey kiddo," he said softly.

I smiled drowsily at him. "I cooked."

"So I smelled." His tone was lighthearted but he had an odd look on his face. "Thanks for doing that. You didn't have to."

I resisted the urge to laugh, wondering how long I could 'get away with anything' now that I was back home. "What else was I going to do?" I stretched lazily. "How was work?"

"Fine," he shrugged, tasting the sauce. "Uneventful." His voice was tense, struggling.

"Darry? Is something wrong?"

He gestured to the letters. _Shit. He saw them_. "Writing someone back there?"

"A few buddies." I thought about this and then amended it. "My only two actually. The rest were killed."

Darry blanched. His jaw tightened and he pulled up a chair to face me. "I don't know if that's good for you. You know…that's behind you…"

I couldn't believe this. "Darry, that's such a load of shit-" I clamped my mouth shut instantly. Obviously, judging by the look on his face, _that_ wasn't the best tactic.

He rubbed a hand through his hair and then even though he was angry, stretched a hand out to me. "Pone, I'm just trying to…"

_Protect you._

I stood up as quick as I could, the chair flying out from behind me. "Don't bother. It happened. I can't change it and neither can you." Before I could stalk out of the kitchen, Darry grabbed my forearm.

"Don't you dare leave," he said steadily, his blue eyes searching my flushed face.

"Tell me, oh tell me, that you have colored the pasta blue," Soda sang out as he marched into the kitchen. He stopped abruptly.

The scene was odd to say the least. Me, half bent over the kitchen table as Darry tried to pull me into the chair. "Darry? What the hell?" Soda asked, making his way over to me quickly.

"Yeah, this isn't doing anything for my ribs," I pointed out smugly, feeling like an asshole for using that line. Instantly, Darry released me, sighing sadly. And instantly I knew I was wrong. He was only trying to help.

"It's ok Soda," I reassured him. "I was being a jerk."

Deep inside…I was panicking. Why couldn't I pull it together?

XXXX

Cripes-i hope i'm not too out of character.


	3. Chapter 3

Here all you crazy fans-another chapter.  
And I am crazy for updating so much.

I need to make you wait for it. Muhahhaha!

Well anyways thanks for the reviews and such. Hope this chapter isn't a yawn.

XXXX

You don't like the sound of the truth

Coming from my mouth

You say that I lack the proof

Well baby that might be so

I might get to the end of my life

Find out everyone was lying

I don't think that I'm afraid anymore say that I would rather die trying…

This time when he swung the bat

And I found myself laying flat I wondered

What a way to spend a dime

What a way to use the time, ain't it baby

I looked at my reflection in the window walking past

And I saw a stranger…

--Dixie Chicks

XXXX

1 Month Later:

Pony's POV

Ah, Friday afternoon. I peeked out the window; the sun was still up, casting an almost-spring glow across the neighborhood. Steve and Soda were walking up the drive. Soda waved, Steve mock-threw the football he was carrying towards me.

The door opened. Soda simultaneously kicked his shoes off and tossed his keys, jacket and the mail in a pile on the floor next to me.

"Oh did you clean?" He looked up honestly surprised.

"Yeah, I did," I couldn't help but laugh at the sheepish grin he threw me on his way to the bathroom. Then I saw a familiar sight in the mess Soda had left. I eagerly ripped open the letter addressed to me. Or to Soda, rather.

_Good news Curtis,_

_It seems that Crock and I will be departing this beloved country in two months time._

_And yes we are still coming to visit. So break out the beer and get ready to party._

_And please-work on your alcohol tolerance, it's absolutely embarrassing._

_Crock however is a killjoy. He isn't too thrilled to come…I think he misses his mommy._

Here the pen slashed a jagged black line across the paper. Crock's chicken scratch appeared.

_Don't listen to that dope._

_Ok, well DO actually listen to him, since we are coming, invited or not._

_I'm not in any big hurry to get home anyways. Well, maybe to visit Shep's mom…_

I smiled, practically reliving the experience of the two of them writing the letter together and arguing the entire time.

_Sergeant Caplan says hi. Since our squad got shot to shit he isn't in our unit anymore. But he still makes time to bust our balls. Anyways, we gotta get going. We have watch tonight. Don't you miss that?_

_Crocker and Shepard_

_P.s. when we get to the states we'll give you a call. _

I should have been happy after reading that. However, suddenly the air got heavier. The edges of my surroundings blurred. I sat motionless, expressionless. The letter dropped from my hand. I wanted to move. I wanted to move so badly, because I was back there.

The jungle crept upon me, bullets flew and I bled. Others bled. They screamed.

Screamingdyingwhycan'tIstopthinkingaboutitall

My eyes closed and I tried to breath steadily, frozen in another place.

"Kid?" Steve asked uncertainly. He was standing near me. Where I didn't know.

"Hey Soda, you better get in here. Soda? Shit, where did you go?" He clapped his hands loudly in front of me.

"No!" I screamed, jumping off the couch, trying to run.

Then Soda's hands flew out and grabbed my shoulders holding me firm. His forehead wrinkled in confusion. "It's ok. It's ok. Pony it's ok!" I tried to shake him off and he kept me still, his hands gripping me solidly. "What happened?"

I looked at him dumbfounded, wide-eyed. "I, I was having a nightmare during the day."

Nervously, Steve rubbed his hands on his jeans. "Shit. If that's what you have during the day, then I'd hate to see what you have at night."

"You can't escape them can you Soda?" I smiled, feeling as if I was dooming him.

The door opened and Darry and Two-Bit pounded in arguing about something. Darry with the pizza and Two-Bit with the beer. Soda flashed Darry a worried look but wriggling out of my brother's grasp I headed toward the bedroom.

XXXX

I was changing for football when Soda came in the room. He saw my scar caused by the bullet. He bit his lip, wincing.

"Aw Pone." Slowly he approached me, speaking in a low voice. "I wish you'd tell me and Darry about over there. I don't know what happened but I'm sure it was awful intense." He watched me carefully as I averted his gaze. "You've been home a month and haven't said a thing. Darry says it'll happen when you're ready but…I'm not so sure. I worry about you with all these night-"

"Soda shut the door will you? I don't want the whole world seeing this." Panicked, I pulled my shirt over my head, hiding my face. "I've been thinking," I began hesitantly, evading his questioning. "Maybe I should move back into my old room."

Soda shook his head in protest, pained at the thought. "No Pony. You wake up too much at night…"

"Exactly why I should move. I've been up so much lately that I'm keeping _you_ up more than usual."

"I told you, I don't mind." Then he switched subjects hastily, trying to distract me from my topic, as I had just done his. "Ready for some football?" He jumped on the bed, yelling like an Indian.

I burst into a laugh and exited the room quickly before he could pull me up there with him.

Everyone else was outside. As usual Steve was griping. "So are we officially old when every Friday night becomes 'football night'? God, talk about routine."

"I'm sorry the likes of you can't get a date on Friday." Two-Bit wisecracked. "But don't take it out on the rest of us who like to have good old American fun!" He positioned himself to tackle Darry, who looked down at him with amusement.

"Do it Two-Bit." I yelled from my position on the porch. "Get a good old American injury!" Darry tossed me the football; I caught it and returned it. Absentmindedly, I dug into the cooler, pulling out a beer. I didn't drink much but I did have an occasional one over in Vietnam. However, after being caught drunk by Caplan, I wizened up and tried to stay sober.

Usually.

"Pony! Toss one over here!" I threw one to Two-Bit. Steve shot me and Two-Bit a warning glance.

In a few quick strides, Darry was at my side, taking the beer can out of my hand.

"You're too young," he said ending the subject.

Coming out of the house, Soda had apparently caught the tail end of this conversation. "You are," he said siding with Darry. For once.

Two-Bit surreptitiously hid the beer at his side, as if he was within the rules of being yelled at by my brothers too.

Not wanting to sound like a whining child, I steadily said, "I wasn't too young in Vietnam. In fact," this was a lie, but I said it anyways, "I bet I could out drink any one of you here."

Steve and Two-Bit muffled laughs. However, judging by Darry's irritated and appalled face I think the laughs were directed at him. "Don't push this," he said.

I really wanted too. I really did. But I saw Soda's face and I said nothing. I merely took the beer from Darry's hand, dumped the remaining contents on the ground and handed it back to him.

"Hey-I would've drank it," Two-Bit protested. Darry unclenched and patted my shoulder, thinking we understood each other.

I stared at the ground, frustrated. We seemed to misunderstand each other a lot lately.

XXXX

Ok-I hope I am not making this story too slow. I just want it to be a gradual building of Pony's PTSD and attitude…and also I just want it to be another story. More drama, more fun! Tune in next week for the next, jaw-dropping episode Haha.

If anyone wants info on PTSD (Yes, I am doing research) Wikipedia has some good info. Also the APA.

FYI: PTSD wasn't truly recognized until after the Vietnam War.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the long delay. Here is another chapter….hopefully another one will follow soon. Enjoy!

AddictiontoFiction: Thanks for the SO awesome review. And no prob about the comments, I appreciate you taking the time to do that. And since I got chapter 4 up I am expecting another! Haha.

Bambola, Marauder, Purpleblaze, Blondie, Superdope, Flag, crazyalchemist, uandme, soda's girl, xodamhsoirx, mushsgirl, Brittney, Alleycat, IamOnlyMe, Varinia, and anyone else I am thoughtlessly forgetting thanks SO MUCH for the reviews.

Keep leaving me more-they're great inspiration!

Switchin' things up!

XXXX

"So he's leaving the life he's come to know  
He said he's going back to find  
What's left of his world  
the world he left behind  
not so very long ago  
oh yeah"

--Human Nature

XXXX

Darry's POV

"Get your things," I told Pony a week later.

Surprised, he looked up from his cereal. "For what?"

"You're due in for a check-up for those ribs. And those nightmares." Instead of frowning, he paled slightly and stared guiltily into his bowl of milk.

Last night had been the last straw.

_Ponyboy had gone to bed early. This had left Soda, Two-Bit and myself watching some old horror movie on TV. Engrossed in the film, it took us all a few moments to realize that the blood-curdling shriek piercing the air was not coming from the movie. _

_Soda and I flew off the couch, running for the room, trying not to trip over each other in the process. Two-Bit immediately followed._

_Our brother thrashed on the bed violently, tears streamed down his face. He whimpered and then began to scream again. Soda and I went to him. Soda shushed him while I held him still. Two-Bit hovered, unsure of what to do. _

"_Don't hurt me, please don't," Pony cried, jerking away fiercely from Soda. _

_Soda went a sickish hue. Then he yelled at me, "Christ is he having a seizure or a nightmare?" I merely stared helplessly at my scared brothers. I didn't know what to do. Nothing worked._

_Suddenly, Pony quieted. He went limp. It was as if someone had punched the lights out of him. Soda touched his hair gently. "Honey, wake up." We held our breaths; a quiet Ponyboy was just as disconcerting._

_I hated the nightmares-but one thing I realized was that they were the only time Ponyboy was vulnerable-the only time we could help him_

_His eyes opened, blank and unseeing. Pony blinked, his green eyes trying to focus on the three staring figures in front of his bed. _

"_Hey Two-Bit," he smiled drowsily. He sat up, scratching his head. "What're you doing here?"_

"_Hey Kid." Two-Bit croaked weakly; finally realizing how bad the nightmares actually were. _

"Let's go," Ponyboy stated flatly, breaking me out of my daze. The chair clattered and he watched me with solemn eyes.

"Don't you want to finish breakfast?" I rubbed my neck, feeling bad that I had hurried him.

He shrugged. "I'm not that hungry. Besides it tastes like cardboard."

"Hey cereal!" Soda greeted us as he was coming into the kitchen.

"You want it?" Pony shot me a rare grin, handing the bowl to Soda who happily began devouring it.

XXXX

Pony's leg was going a mile a minute. After his physical we were waiting for the doctor. I sat, intently watching Pony's leg bounce up and down. "Ponyboy, relax you're making _me_ nervous."

"Darry, I hate hospitals," he hissed at me with a vengeance I had never heard before. "I hate them." His face became distant as he stared off into space. "The only place I've never been is the morgue."

I blinked, not believing my ears. "Ponyboy Curtis if I ever hear you-"

My outrage was cut off by the squeak of the door opening and the doctor entering. Sitting up straighter, I cleared my throat. He was an older man with a shock of white hair and a white mustache. He pushed his glasses higher on his nose as he settled across from us at his desk.

"Good news Sonny." Pony and I both inwardly groaned at the name. "Your ribs are fine. The fractures have healed cleanly despite the bad break. I would however suggest no more roughhousing." He shot me a _boys will be boys_ look and smiled indulgently.

Then, tapping his pen on the desk, he evaluated his notes. "Now…about the nightmares. Waking up three to four nights a week screaming is generally considered abnormal…"

My hands clenched into fists. _Get to the point Doctor_.

"The only thing new I can suggest, in addition to keeping extra busy, is sleeping pills. They'll knock a person right out. Your brother here won't even remember his dreams."

Pony took the pill bottle that Doctor Fitch held out and shook it. The little white pills rattled in the tube.

"Just let me remind you," Doctor Fitch continued, "take only two pills at night and no more. Any more can lead to an overdose, which can be fatal." He laughed as if the idea was outlandish.

Frowning I thought of Ponyboy and his daily aspirin habit of gulping down five, six pills at a time. I whipped the pills out of Pony's hand and slapped them on the desk. "Oh, I don't think so," I told him and the doctor both. I was not giving my brother something that could make him go to sleep permanently.

Hell no.

The doctor stared at me curiously, shut Pony's file and said, "Have it your way."

I would have it my way. We'd get through the nightmares somehow. I'd make sure of that.

XXXX

We drove home in silence, my mind reeling. I didn't mind the nightmares so much. They scared me, but what really scared me was that the nightmares and the war had changed Pony. He wouldn't talk about it, no matter how hard Soda and I prodded.

Sure, I accepted the fact that he had changed. He would be 16 in a month, no longer a 14-year-old. But he was just a kid. A kid who was still hurting because of his parents, his friends and now the war. Everyone saw that, everyone except Ponyboy who didn't want to accept or deal with it.

_He has to_, I thought grimly_. Because Soda and I can't take him leaving us again_.

Pony lit a cigarette, the click of the lighter jerking me away from my thoughts. "Darry," he laughed, "did you think I was going to take the pills, go into the bathroom and off myself?"

My hands clenched the steering wheel, the scars from fistfights standing out on my white knuckles. "I don't know Pone. I really don't know with you anymore."

Crestfallen, Pony leaned his head against the window. "I'm sorry Darry. I know I've been difficult. I'm trying," he murmured weakly.

"Do you remember your dreams?" I asked him hesitantly.

"Yes. I'm being killed." He tossed the smoke out the window. I waited, not wanting to push and have him shut down. "It…it didn't bother me when I was over there. You know, the killing I did because I did it for Soda. No matter what, it was for him. But now that I'm back…it's all I think about. All the time."

Pulling into our driveway, I cut the engine but stayed in the car. "I killed people Darry. I killed them." His eyes were closed and he sat shaking.

"I thought I'd die over there. But I didn't. And I don't want to die over here either, because that's what I feel like."

Reaching over. I rubbed his shoulder glad to comfort him, yet still somewhat foreign to it. "Don't worry. Soda and I…we'll get you through this." I felt hopeful, relieved that he had tried to open up.

Pony looked at me. "I'd go for you too Darry. You know that right?"

There it was: the Pony I knew.

Touched, I said huskily, "I wouldn't ask you."

"You wouldn't have to," he replied, leaving me sitting in the truck alone.

XXXX

P.s. thanks to everyone who nominated Changing Tides for the WSOTTA! I appreciate it so much…what an awesome honor!


	5. Chapter 5

Alleycat, I can answer your one question about age, however I cannot about the bullet wound because I was sloppy and didn't cover it. Oh well. ;)

This is how I deduced PB's age, etc. In the book he is a month into being 14. At the end of the book on page 167, Mr. Syme says he'll pass him with a good semester theme. So I figure that it is near the end of the school year, either in May or June, and PB prob turned 14 in April or sometime. Sugar and Grits takes place about 2/3 months after the book, around August. So he would still be 14. Changing Tides is about a year later-June-so PB is 15. Then he is gone in Vietnam from about June to February. So…in this story he should be due to turn 16 in April-ish.

But hey, that's my long-winded take.

Thanks for the reviews! Let me know what you all think!

Enjoy!

XXXX

"My scream got lost in a paper cup

You think there's a heaven where some screams have gone

I got 25 bucks and a cracker do you think it's enough

To get us there"

-Tori Amos

XXXX

Pony's POV

Tying my shoelaces, I took a breath and sprinted around the track. Bored at home, I had wandered around endlessly until I came upon my school. Running had seemed the best solution to forget about everything. When I ran I thought of nothing except the wind on my face and the pounding of my feet; although, I did think of Caplan and what he had taught me.

If nothing else, I could run.

I flew across that track for who knows how long. I stopped to gasp for air, wiping my sweaty face. I staggered over to the bleachers, steadied myself and vomited into the gravel. I had pushed myself to the limit. And damn it felt good.

The sky was turning to dusk. Glory, I'd been out here long.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit. " I muttered, remembering I was supposed to meet Soda for lunch at the DX.

Gathering my strength, I broke into another run, this time heading for my house. The surroundings flashed by as I turned the corner to my street and ran through the neighboring alley. I saw Soda, Steve and Two-Bit on the porch. They saw me and I waved.

Running across someone else's lawn, I tumbled through a bush and darted foolishly out into the street. Soda covered his eyes and Steve yelled something inaudible. The oncoming car stopped with a screech and I stopped too, dodging it narrowly. Inches apart, the driver and I stared at each other.

I exhaled, my eyes wide. "Jesus kid, watch it!" Flipping the bird, he peeled out, leaving me in the dust.

"Hey guys," I said nonchalantly, strolling up to my friends and brother. "What'd I miss?"

"If I'm not mistaken, you narrowly missed being flattened like a pancake," Two-Bit pointed out. "Where's the fire?"

"I missed lunch." I turned to a shaken Soda. "I didn't want to worry you," I added unnecessarily, knowing that I had done just that by nearly getting creamed by a Cadillac.

"Just watch where you're going Ponyboy." Soda told me quietly.

XXXX

"Soda? Sodapop Curtis?" the voice on the phone droned.

"Crock?" I asked in disbelief. Thank god I had answered.

"Yup. We're in the states. I'm at Shepard's house in Chicago. His family took pity on me." Then in a conspiratorial whisper he added, "Did you know he's rich?"

I laughed. "Nope. Not a clue." I leaned against the wall, clearly aware that Darry had picked up on this conversation. He was mingling around the house, getting ready to go out with some friends from work. "How's it feel to be back?"

He hesitated. "I'll tell you in a week or so."

"You're still coming then?"

"'Course. Shep and I are gonna do a road trip…so unless we get distracted by the largest ball of yarn or some other side show freak attraction, we should be there next Saturday."

"That's tuff." A commotion in the background caused me to pull the phone away from my ear. "Crock?"

"Yeah, sorry. Shepard just stepped on the cat's tail. It's pretty pissed-hold on, he wants to talk to you." The phone was pulled away, a few curses flew and then Shep was on the phone.

"Curtis-never get a pet. I swear I'm going to kill that goddamn cat. Anyways, so you heard me and Crock's plan."

"I'm glad you're coming. I need something to do," I whispered furiously into the phone.

"Shoot Curtis, we're gonna tear that town up."

We spoke for a few more minutes; I gave Shepard my address and hung up the phone shakily, happy that I would see my friends again, but suddenly worried as I remembered that they thought I was Sodapop.

_I am so fu-._

"Pony? Who was that?" Darry asked, buttoning his shirt.

"My friends-Crock and Shepard."

"From Vietnam?" He seemed worried. About what I didn't know.

"They're coming to visit me next week. Would you mind if they stayed here?"

Darry shook his head. "Not at all. I'm looking forward to meeting them."

That made me nervous too. Shep and Crock meeting everyone else. They knew me from the war; they didn't know me from Tulsa.

Grabbing his wallet and keys Darry stopped at the door. "You'll be ok here?" I rolled my eyes and he continued. "It's just that I'm gone so much during the week, I feel bad leaving you here-"

"Go, go on. Have fun bowling." I waved him out the front door. He needed to get out of the house and away from me. I made him too tense these days.

Two-Bit had said he would come by tonight and keep me company but I wasn't counting on that. He was planning to 'swing by Buck's' for a drink. Knowing him he'd probably pass out in the gutter on the way over here. I pulled out a book I had rented at the library and plopped on the couch.

I finished the first chapter and was starting on the second when a knock on the door startled me. Opening it revealed Karen Nichols. "Mrs. Nichols, hi," I said uneasily. Instead of opening the door to let her in as she had done for me, I slipped through the door, shut it behind me and met her on the porch.

"What are you doing here?"

She smiled at me. "I just wanted to come and see how you were doing. Are your parents home?"

"No. They're dead."

Her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, I am so sorry." She cocked her head. "Who do you live with?"

I didn't like this conversation. "My guardians," I said hurriedly. "You really didn't have to come by." My eyes flicked to her car. Well, I guess she knew that I was a greaser now.

Thoughtfully she said, "Nonsense…I just wanted to thank you again…" Her green eyes erupted into surprise. "Now I remember who you are! Your name sounded so familiar to me. I read about you a couple years back…"

_Here it comes._

"…you were involved with Bob Sheldon's death. You and those two other grea-I mean boys." She looked at me, not accusingly but in consideration. "He was a good friend of Tom's."

"Yes Ma'am." Her stare made me uncomfortable and I reached for the door. "I'd better be going…"

She grabbed my arm gently. "Pony, if you need anything, you call me." She scribbled her number down on a card and pressed it into my hand. "This is no place for a child," she mused to herself, looking around.

Inside my house, I watched her drive away. Frowning, I tried to ignore the anxiety bubbling in my stomach. Karen Nichols was a Soc I definitely had to stay away from.

XXXX


	6. Chapter 6

Hey everyone! Sorry for the long wait between updates. Three reasons. 1) It was hard writing this chapter with the guys. 2) Had a birthday and some guests and 3) Got a puppy.

But hopefully I'll be updating more. So enjoy this chapter!! And leave me reviews. Thanks for all the ones I got for the last chapter.

P.s. About PB's birthday-I really wasn't aware of when S.E. Hinton stated when it was so….it is what it is. : )

XXXX

The sound of a car horn woke me from the nightmare that had been threatening to form. With shaky hands I rubbed my hair back and glanced at the clock. 3 p.m.

Geez, my sleep schedule was really out of whack.

I had been staying up late to fight the dreams and falling asleep early in the morning. Two-Bit had taken to calling me 'the zombie'. However, he did stop quickly after I kept walking around in a daze with dark circles under my eyes.

Guess it wasn't funny anymore.

Beep Beeeeeeeeeeep 

The horn blared again, coming from outside the house. "Glory, what the hell…" I muttered getting up. If this was Darry's tactic at getting me out of bed, it sure worked.

Dragging myself through the house, I sluggishly opened up the front door. That woke me up fast. Shep and Crock waved at me from the car and jumped out hurriedly.

Wearing wide smiles they ran lankily up to me. "Holy shit, you're here!" I laughed as Crock nearly ambushed me, pulling me into a hug. "And holy shit," I regarded Shep strangely as he hugged me, "You're a soc." The car he had drove up in was a bright blue mustang.

"And you're Ponyboy." he said matter-of-fact.

My jaw dropped. "What? Who told you? How long…?"

"Caplan." Crock held his hands out. "He told us the day you left, in the airport."

"Why didn't you tell me you knew?"

"Shoot Curtis, I wanted to see how long you'd try and pull off this little scam of yours." Crock shoved me lightly backwards into the house.

"I think you two should know," Shepard said imitating Caplan's gruff voice and pulling out a smoke, "That Curtis is a mere 15-year-old who resorted to impersonating his older brother and was unfortunately cursed with the bad luck enough be born with the name Ponyboy." Shepard paused, reverting back to his true voice. "Or something like that." He waggled the cigarette at me.

Crock stared at me for a moment, almost in awe. "I still don't know how the hell you got away with it. Then frowning, "Or that I bought it."

"You don't care do you?" I was met with odd stares. "That I'm…15…?"

"Why would we?" Crock said slinging his bag on the floor. " Minus the name, you're still you."

"Well, I just thought…" I stammered, relieved that they still thought of me their friend, not a kid.

"Don't think Curtis. It won't help you in life."

I scoffed at Shepard. "Oh? How will you get by then?"

"On pure charm, my lad. Pure charm," he drawled dropping into Darry's recliner. His eyes surveyed my home. Suddenly, I was self-conscious. Shoot, Shep was a Soc. He was rich; he drove a mustang.

Crock and Shep pretty much knew the basic gist of the Soc/Greaser conflict. I just don't think they understood it, having never been in our type of situation.

An uncomfortable silence descended. Uncomfortable as in the _what do we do now?_ type of silence. Crocker broke it. "So…it's cool that we stay here?"

"Sure. My brothers don't mind at all." What I really hoped Darry didn't mind was the fact that Shepard was puffing away on smokes in the house.

"Speaking of brothers," Shepard raised his eyebrows, "Is the rest of your family as deceptive as you? Wait, wait, wait. Your parents aren't _alive_ are they?"

I laughed and smacked his arm. "No, you bastard."

Crock took up for me. "Why would he lie about that, you piece of shit?" And on cue, Darry and Soda arrived just in time to hear Crocker swear at Shepard and Shepard throw back a few choice curses. Curses that would make Dally blush, if that was possible.

They seemed slightly out of breath; Soda had an odd, curious smile on his face and Darry switched into protective mode.

_This should be interesting_, I thought wryly. I knew it would be weird introducing Crock and Shep to my brothers and Two-Bit and Steve. In Tulsa, I was the youngest member of the group, someone they looked out for, the kid. However, I knew that to Crock and Shep I was an equal. Being around them reminded me how much I had changed. And I knew that Crock and Shep would remind Darry that they were the ones who had helped change me.

Caught off guard, Crocker recovered quickly. "Oh hey, I'm Bryan Crocker." He extended a hand that Darry took.

"Foul-mouth extraordinaire," Shep opined. Soda and I laughed, Darry looked confused, while Crock just looked irritated.

"And this is Shepard Parks, token smartass," I added, introducing Shep.

"Nice to meet you." Darry his hand and frowned at the cigarette dangling in Shep's mouth. He coughed pointedly.

Darry spoke to me in a tight voice. "Whose car is that?"

"It's Shep's," I replied with a shrug. Then I realized why Darry had resumed his normal color; he had been white as a ghost when he entered. I tried to muffle a laugh. "Darry did you think I was being terrorized by Socs?"

He shot me an exasperated look. "Well, it had crossed our minds."

"It's not every day we see a mustang in our neighborhood," Soda put in quietly.

Soda still seemed friendly enough, but strangely I could see something in him change; he was too quiet, reserved. He smiled thinly at Crock. "You two served together in the war." It came out strained statement.

Instantly, I could see Crock's eyes sweep over Soda. The brother I had tried so hard to protect. Who I would give my life for.

"Yep. Although I still can't believe he managed to jerk us around for so long." Nodding at Soda he said, "You know, that he was you."

Soda spoke to Crock, but was looking at me. "Yeah. I can't believe it either."

Darry barked out a laugh, startling me. "He finally told you? Good. I was starting to think he'd try and pull the name off when you two got here."

I glowered at him, rolling my eyes. Good ol' Darry. I always knew he had confidence in me.

Shep clapped his hands together, jumped out of the chair and threw his cigarette butt out the screen door. "Curtis, show us the town. We need some kicks. We didn't exactly get them on route 66."

Crock shot Shepard a pissed-off look. "Yeah, all we got was a flat tire and a crazed hitchhiker."

"You really should've been there," Shepard told me seriously.

"Yeah, sorry, I missed that…" I said sarcastically, while Crock stared in disbelief at Shepard. "I don't know what exactly you'll find thrilling in this town, but I'll do my best. You…you want to come?" I asked Darry and Soda.

"No. You go on, have fun," Darry answered. I could see that Soda wanted to come, but he just shook his head.

Shep pulled out his keys. "Shall we take the 'Stang?"

I met Darry's eyes. I didn't exactly feel like cruising the town in a soc-mobile. And I knew he felt the same way. "Let's walk." I ushered them outside, getting no argument. "Better view that way."

"Got any bars in this town?" Shep asked loudly as walked down the steps. "Let's just go." I shut my eyes and walked faster, hoping Darry didn't hear what Shep had just said.

Shit. These guys were going to get me into trouble. Then I smiled, knowing I would enjoy every second.

XXXX

Leave reviews!!

Anything you'd like to see happen w/ the guys? Suggestions??


	7. Chapter 7

Ok ya'll. Another chapter is up! Thanks for the reviews and keep 'em coming.

Enjoy!!

Hopefully, updates won't take so long now….so keep your fingers crossed!

XXXX

Gimme 8 seconds, gimme one more shot  
Gimme hell below, gimme strength on top  
You gotta be crazy, gotta be insane  
To hitch your wagon to a hurricane

-Toby Keith

XXXX

Soda's POV:

"So, what're they like? Well, besides the Mustang." Steve asked me scornfully. Him and Two-Bit had both been grilling me about Pony's friends ever since coming over.

"Why do you care so much anyways?" I snapped at him. "You've never given a damn before."

Steve and Two-Bit exchanged looks. I ignored them and stared at my cards. "They seemed nice enough," I mumbled, softening my tone. "But I didn't really have a chance to meet them." They had left as soon as we had met them. I suppose Darry and I acting the overbearing brothers could do that to people.

I couldn't overlook the odd sensation that had been building in my stomach ever since meeting Bryan Crocker. Shepard was fine--basically another Two-Bit. Yet with Bryan I felt something I didn't want to admit. Jealousy. He had protected Pony when I couldn't. I should've been grateful, but I wasn't, I was resentful and it bothered the crap out of me.

"Did muscles scare them off?" Two-Bit nodded at Darry who was on the phone arguing with his boss. "Go fish." He lay down his cards.

"Two-Bit we're playing poker," I laughed, as Steve groaned.

"This is why we never invite you," he muttered irritably, reshuffling the cards.

The phone cord twisted around Darry's legs as he parted the blinds to peer out the window. I watched him with amusement, yet also unease. This scene was reminding me too much of the last time Ponyboy came home late. Only this time he wasn't late. It was only 10 o'clock; Darry was just being overly paranoid.

"Darry, relax," I told him. "He'll come home."

"He's been out since three this afternoon," he said as he hung up the phone. Then he rubbed his face and went into his room, calling out behind him, "I have to work tomorrow, Soda. Let me know when he gets home."

The phone rang again and I grabbed for it, beating Two-Bit. "Hello?"

"Soda, it's Ponyboy."

"Hey, where are you?" I leaned back in the chair, nearly tipping it over. I grabbed the table, Steve grinned at me.

"Don't tell Darry," he whispered, giggling, "I…we need a ride home."

Blinking, I held the phone away from my ear in disbelief. "Are you drunk?" This bit of information perked Steve and Two-Bit right up.

"Of course not." His voice wobbled, betraying himself.

"Aw, Pony," I moaned. "Darry's gonna skin you. And I have half a mind to do it myself." He was silent. I sighed, "Where are you?"

"The payphone out by Stockwell and Brighton." He paused. "Bring me some aspirin willya?"

Hanging up the phone, I grabbed Darry's keys, yelling a quick goodbye. Two-Bit and Steve followed in quick succession. "There's no way I'm going to miss this," chortled Two-Bit.

XXXX

I pulled the truck up to the three dark figures mingling in the road. Two-Bit and Steve got out first; I stayed behind to prepare myself. I wasn't exactly a hardass when it came down to being upset with Ponyboy. I guess I could consider this practice. I could say one thing, I was glad I had gotten to the phone before Darry. He may have been going easier on Ponyboy lately, but he definitely wouldn't slack in the punishing department tonight.

"Well here's a sight I'd never thought I'd see. Ponyboy Curtis drunk." Two-Bit reached out to steady Pony, who grinned goofily at him. I bit back a grin as I approached; I couldn't help it.

"I puked, Soda," Pony told me proudly.

"Congratulations," I said with laughter. Holding his elbow as he swayed, I looked at Bryan and Shep: the two people who had probably gotten my brother into this mess.

"He owes me a new pair of shoes," Shepard pointed at his feet.

Leaning against the truck, Steve grimaced. "What'd you give him? Paint thinner?"

"No, tequila," Shepard shot back.

Bryan held up his hands, in a _don't-shoot_ manner. Sheepishly he said, "Sorry 'bout this. Guess it was a little strong for him."

"Hell, he needs the experience," Two-Bit put in, coming up to Bryan. With swift appraisal they shook hands and introduced themselves.

I helped Ponyboy into the truck. "Are you mad Soda?" His wide, green eyes twinkled in the dark of the cab.

"No. Not mad. Now just shut up and try not to puke in Darry's truck." I ruffled his hair back.

"That'll definitely get you into trouble," Steve snorted, crawling in the bed of the truck, along with Two-Bit and Shepard.

I drove home. Ponyboy was squeezed between Bryan and myself. Behind me I could hear Two-Bit and Shepard laughing and Steve swearing at them. Eyes still on the road I said, "You know he's only fifteen."

It wasn't a warning, just fact. It was awkward lecturing Ponyboy's friends who were a bit older than myself, but hell I had to do it.

Strike that, I needed to do it.

Pony stiffened and complained, "Soda, it's fine…"

"I know," Bryan said apologetically. "I forget."

_Sometimes I think he does too_, I thought.

XXXX

A shrill scream echoed through the night. Groggily, I broke out of my sleep to look around for Ponyboy. Not seeing him, I ran into the living room where only four hours ago I had dumped the three drunks. Bryan was gently pulling Ponyboy into a sitting position on the couch. "Curtis, wake up." He shook him gently, but Pony still thrashed about.

Shepard kneeling by his side said, "Just do it."

"I don't know Shep…"

"C'mon Crocker, it worked for me. It's just gonna get worse. You know that."

Another scream broke from my brother's mouth, causing me to quickly approach, yet this time the scream was stopped short by a hard crack across Pony's face.

Bryan had slapped him. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" I nearly yelled, not caring if I woke Darry or not.

Ponyboy jolted abruptly and opened his eyes. Bryan's hands jolted out, grabbing his wrists to hold him still. Breathing shallowly, Pony swallowed thickly. "Thanks," he told Bryan in a small voice.

"Anytime."

Breaking through the barrier of the three of them, I scooted next to Pony on the couch. Gingerly, I probed his cheek; it was slightly pink. "You alright Pone?" Before he could answer I turned to Bryan, my face furious. "Was that really necessary?"

"He's awake, isn't he?" he said in a voice that dared me to contradict him.

Shepard snapped his fingers in front of Ponyboy's dazed face. "C'mon kid. Stay with us." He looked at me. "I take it this happens often?"

"Unfortunately." Rubbing my hand through my hair, I tried to keep my voice even.

"Then take it from me, you definitely don't want to let him sleep through those. Although, his did sound especially terrifying with the girly shrieks and all." Shepard smiled faintly and so did Ponyboy.

"He's always had them," I said, rubbing Ponyboy's back. "Although it gets harder and harder to wake him up."

Ponyboy chuckled at Bryan. "Guess you found a way." Bryan looked away, shamefaced.

"Everything okay in here?" Darry's rough voice asked, scaring us all.

"Just having a boy scout meeting?" Shepard offered unhelpfully.

Darry stared at Shepard for a second, fought between laughing and scowling, and returned to his room.

Pony looked at me with wide, amazed eyes. "I can't believe I made it through this night without being caught."

"Don't get too cocky Ponyboy," I told him, inwardly laughing. Pulling something over on Darry was new to both of us.

Actually, it was kind of fun.

XXXX

Lighthearted ending? Yay!

Leave reviews!


	8. Chapter 8

(On my knees begging) Please forgive me for the LONG wait! Since I pushed myself to update you are getting a filler chapter…interesting yet nothing great. So just deal, I say! ;)

So…I hope you still love me and I will def update once more this weekend! And that's a promise my readers!

Leave me reviews-even though I don't deserve them!! **Sniff** Pleaaaaaaaaaaseeeee!

This chapter is dedicated to Alleycat80 and AddictiontoFiction!

XXXX

"Where is my comfort zone?  
A simple place to call my own

Cause everything I wanna be

Comes crashing down on me

And it don't show up in the pavement cracks

I can't even recognize my tracks…"

-Annie Lennox

XXXX

Pony's POV

"Have a headache?" Soda asked, startling me into spilling half the contents of the aspirin bottle down the kitchen sink. A grin flickered across his face. "Serves you right."

Grinning sheepishly, I returned what I could to the bottle, swallowing several of the pills. Soda hadn't been too upset with me about last night. Well, he was upset that I had been drinking, but he wasn't upset with me enough to actually tell Darry. Yet.

"Are you busted yet?" Two-Bit asked popping his head into the kitchen.

Suddenly nervous, I eyed him with irritation. "Shut your trap," I told him. Then to Soda I whispered, "Do you think Darry knows?"

He looked at me with an expression of amusement of his face. "Pony, if he knew, believe me, _you'd_ know." Soda dropped his voice lower, his face getting serious. "Just don't let me catch you like that again. Next time you come home you better be sober."

Two-Bit scoffed. "What happened to being the fun older brother?" He looked at me, cocking his head. "Just pop a mint and be able to walk a straight line and your smoothed sailing." Soda stared at him exasperatedly.

Two-Bit stroked an imaginary beard on his chin. "You know Soda, I seem to remember a few times you had one too many beers as a young'un and let's just say things didn't always go smoothly. In fact, what about the time you and Steve-"

Soda pointed at Two-Bit, in a _stop-right-now _gesture. "Let's leave me and Steve out of this…" He paused. "Speaking of Steve, where is he?"

I smiled smugly. "Shep coaxed him into giving him a free oil change."

"How'd that happen? Steve's usually not that generous," Soda said, genuinely impressed.

"I think it had something to do with the fact that Shepard tried to pour the oil into the gas tank."

"Oh he's good." Two-Bit nodded in agreement with Soda. "Wonder what I could weasel out Steve?"

"Morning all," Darry announced coming into the kitchen. He clapped me on the back and I spun around nervously.

"Hi Darry. Sleep well? I did. Everything's great, nothing new," I stammered, hiding the aspiring behind my back and backing away from him. "I gotta go…enjoy the kitchen…"

"What's with him?" Darry asked, honestly perplexed, as I nearly ran out of the kitchen, spouting lunacy.

"Too much coffee," Soda covered lamely.

"Yeah, that's it," Two-Bit said wolfishly, barking out a loud laugh.

I exited the house quickly, cursing Two-Bit and praying he would shut the hell up. I didn't want to wait around and watch Darry's face if he found out I had come home plastered last night.

_Jesus_, I thought imagining the painful scenario, _I'd never see the light of day again_.

XXXX

Later that afternoon, Shep, Crock and I decided to visit Soda and Steve at the DX with Two-Bit tagging along. I was afraid they would be bored of the town by now, but they seemed to enjoy their lazy days.

Behind us we heard the roar of a car. Two-Bit glanced warily behind him and the shot me a _what-now_ glance.

A mustang flew by, the Socs screaming _Grease bastards!_ They flew around a corner, spewing dust. Two-Bit flipped them off and I snuck at look out of the corner of my eye at Crocker. He stared at the fleeing car in amusement.

"And I'm not even a Greaser," Shepard said with mock injury, holding a hand to his chest.

The car approached again, coming up behind us. One of the Socs was leaning out the window, holding something in his hands. He gave a heave and that something went flying at us. Busy watching the flying object, I tripped and sprawled flat on my face. I groaned at my own carelessness and lay there with awkwardness.

The object landed next to me. It was a brick. A heavy, red brick.

I frowned. That would've hurt. A lot.

I was pulled up quickly to meet Two-Bit's pale face. "Jesus. I thought they got you. You went down like-"

"-a ton of bricks," Crocker finished, looking at the brick on the ground.

"I tripped. Over my own feet." I brushed the dirt off my jeans.

Shepard laughed weakly. "I don't know how they let you into the field."

"Do you know how tempted I am to storm down to Soc City and bust some heads?" Two-Bit raged. He exhaled into his palms and then rubbed his hands together, looking for the car angrily.

"Thank God you bit the dust, that would've cracked your skull open," Crocker pointed out.

"I guess that would've taken care of my headache," I joked inanely. I was shaken; not by the fact that I had nearly been decapitated, but by the fact that the Socs were taking things to a new extreme. Things had obviously changed for the worst when I had been gone.

XXXX

Don't worry…I know where the story is going…just need some random chapters to fill it up…hopefully you all aren't getting too bored!

And oh yeah…are you all getting sick of Shep and Crock….hmmm what to do w/ those two…hahah!

Will update soon!

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	9. Chapter 9

As promised my readers, here's another update! Yay! I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter-keep leaving me great reviews. I appreciate them oh-so much!

Also, if I don't update before Thanksgiving, you all have a great one!

XXXX

"But I'd play with fire to break the ice

And I'd play with a nuclear device

Is it something I'll regret?

Why do I want what I can't get

I wish it didn't have to be so bad"

--Blink 182

XXXX

Pony's POV

The next morning Crock sauntered up to me on the front deck. "We're going to a bar tonight," he said casually.

"Sure." Trance-like I watched Shepard spin wheelies in the street. "Showoff," I muttered.

"A soc bar."

I sighed. Crock and Shepard wanted a good round of payback. With that, they reminded me of Dally and Steve who wouldn't back down. They would try to stick up for us, even if it wasn't their fight.

Without looking at him I tossed my cigarette on the lawn. "Crock, that's not such a good idea…" _I've been in enough trouble with the socs, _I added silently.

However, things were worse now then they ever had been. I had found out from Two-Bit that the high school socs had been keeping a tally of the socs and greasers who were going to Vietnam and coming back in a body bag. Apparently, more socs were being killed, so they figured upping the ante on us greasers was appropriate. "Ridiculous," Two-Bit had spouted angrily, "Sick bastards."

"Well, whether you come or not, me and Shep'll go," Crock told me bluntly.

"That's shitty," I said, turning towards him. "Now you know I'm gonna go. I can't let you get your ass kicked."

"Oh, asses will be kicked. Only they won't be ours."

"Crock…" I began, hesitating to tell him about Johnny and Dallas. He knew the story about the socs…the rumbles…he just didn't know the most important part of the story. It was too hard to speak about…

"Watch this." Crock bolted off the porch and running up to the mustang jumped on the hood of the car as Shep drove around at 25 mph.

I guess that ended that subject.

The screen door slammed. "So those are the guys you fought a war with," Darry said bluntly. I turned to him. He was smiling. Then he laughed. "They're crazy."

I shot him back a smile. "They're not so bad."

"No. They're not," he surmised. Then he moved closer to me. "Two-Bit told me about the socs."

I groaned inwardly. Damn Two-Bit. I really hoped he didn't thrive on the motto 'secrets don't make friends' because then Darry definitely knew about my previous act of drunkenness. I looked up into my brother's face; he was distressed

"Darry, don't worry about it. I dodged it. No sweat."

"Just take it easy," he said watching Shepard and Crock play chicken. "I don't want you to do anything…" Darry broke off awkwardly.

I raised my eyebrow. I could finish that sentence. He didn't want me to do anything _crazy_. Stupid.

Well believe me, tonight I would listen to him. I had no intention of repeating Windrixville.

XXXX

"Game of pool anyone?" Shep said rubbing his hands together eagerly. He grabbed up a cue and meandered around the pool table.

"No way, slick." Crock finished his beer and turned to me. "He tried to hustle someone in Chicago. Christ, I thought he was going to get his legs broken."

"No thanks to you," Shep shot back.

Crocker looked at him in disbelief. "Well, I wasn't the one who took twenty bucks from the guy and then called his girlfriend a drunken hooker."

I snorted, choking on my beer.

"Trust me. I know a hooker."

"Why does that not surprise me," I quipped, leaning back on my stool and surveying the bar. It had been pretty easy to get in. Shep looked enough like a soc and I wore my tags so no one had bothered to card me.

"Hey greaser," a voice called out behind me. Two socs approached me; they didn't look happy.

Crock checked his watch, impressed. "That was fast." We had been there for 15 minutes.

"I'm not looking for trouble guys," I said truthfully. I knew Shep and Crock were, but I was hoping I could somehow diffuse the situation before it started. Darry didn't need another phone call from the fuzz.

"That's too bad grease," the mustached soc said. "Because you sure walked into it."

I rolled my eyes and Shepard snorted. Glory, they had some great comebacks. Then before I could react, I was punched in my stomach and shoved off my barstool. "How's that you little grease shit?" the younger soc snarled. "You should learn something from that."

"Asshole." Wheezing, I hauled myself up in time to see Crock sock the mustached soc in the mouth. He stumbled back and fell on his ass.

Shep missed decking the younger soc and got hit in the face. Shep cursed and tried to regain his balance

Jumping in, I pulled the soc off Shep, ducked his punch and hit him with my own. "How's that?" I shot back as he clutched his face.

Crock, standing over the fallen mustached soc kicked him in the stomach. Again. And again. Not used to such a display of anger from my friend I yelled out, "Crock, stop it!" He looked up in surprise and then backed off guiltily.

I noticed the bartender on the phone, gesturing frantically. "We need to go. Now."

Crock shrugged indifferently. "Sure. Now that business is taken care of."

I grabbed his arm. "C'mon."

"Good thing I brought the old 'stang tonight," Shepard laughed as we exited hurriedly. "The get-away-mobile."

I smirked, suddenly not worried. No one would be looking for a few greasers driving a Mustang.

XXXX

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	10. Chapter 10

I'm back! Sorry for the delay, but thanks for the reviews for the last chapter! I really hope this story isn't getting too drawn out. So….here it goes…voila ladies and gents!

Warning: short, perhaps pointless chapter! ;) Also, pardon any grammar/spelling errors…I wrote this pretty quickly…

Leave reviews please!!

XXXX

…and then there's those other things

which for several reasons we won't mention

everything about them is a little bit stranger

a little bit harder

a little bit deadly…

--Rufus Wainwright

XXXX

Ponyboy's POV

We lingered silently in my driveway. I sat on the hood of the Mustang, while Crock and Shep leaned against its side.

"My hand hurts," I said to myself quietly, rubbing my swollen knuckles and congratulating our good luck that we hadn't been pulled over by the fuzz.

Crocker threw me a loopy smile, his right eye beginning to turn purple. "Sorry about that back there. Guess I got a little carried away." Then he frowned, staring at the ground. "I seem to do that nowadays."

I opened my mouth to question him, but was interrupted by Shep. "Don't worry about it man. They had it coming and we got away. Easy as pie."

I laughed and shook my head at Shep's carefree attitude. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one who could be busted by his big brothers." Staring up at the stars, I thought back to a year ago: blood and bullets.

I spoke my semi-buzzed thoughts: "I don't know why but sometimes things seemed easier back then." I didn't have to explain; Crock and Shep knew what I was talking about.

"Sure they did," Shep put in. "You knew what you were doing then; trying to stay alive. Now…who knows?"

Frowning, I saw Crock nod in agreement.

Breaking the silence, I tried to change the subject, "How's Missy?" I asked Crocker. Shep inhaled sharply and shot him a look.

"I wouldn't know," he said glumly. "She broke it off with me." His sad mournful face reminded me of Sodapop after Sandy had left. I scrambled up quickly.

Before I could respond he stated, "I'm not going back to Texas." With determination, he lit a cigarette, breathing in the smoke.

"Where are you going to go?"

"California. We're both going." He nodded at Shepard.

Shepard shrugged, seeing my shocked face. "Kid, my family drives me insane. Seven siblings, a floozy for a mother and a goddamn palace that no one lives in; I can't handle it."

"You should come with us," Crock offered.

The thought simultaneously intrigued and horrified me. Leave Darry and Soda…again…for good? "Oh, I…couldn't," I responded lamely.

"Why not?" Shepard grilled.

"Yeah Curtis, you already told me you didn't know if you wanted to go back to high school." Crock tried to control his smirk as he said 'high school'. "So come with us. What else are you going to do here?"

"Would you care to repeat that?" A voice came from behind the car. "The part about high school…" It was Soda. And it looked like he and Steve had arrived home from their night out.

Son of a- 

Crock shot me an apologetic look. Shep feigned interest in his lighter.

"It's nothing Soda. Just talk," I explained hurriedly. Steve watched my face as I searched for an explanation but I bit it off as his eyes told me to _just shut up_.

"That's all it better be," Soda said in a tone I recognized as Darry's.

As he passed me without another word I knew he was really angry. Steve had the grace to actually pat me on the shoulder as they passed.

I buried my face in my hands as they entered the house. "This is getting ridiculous."

Shep stared at me in amusement. "Shit Curtis, you did take off for the war without telling them. What do you expect? If I had a brother I'd be mighty protective too."

Crocker laughed. "Shepard, you do have a brother."

Shep waved him away. "Well, one I actually like."

I sighed. "Sorry, for all this. It's probably not the vacation you wanted…"

"Don't. It's been fun," Crocker puffed distractedly at his cigarette like it was the last one he'd ever have.

"Way more normal than my house," Shepard muttered.

The screen door slammed and out came Steve. He tossed me an ice pack. "For your hand."

Raising an eyebrow at his odd gesture, I caught it hesitantly. "Thanks."

He came closer. "I figure you were the three down at the Socy bar. With the Mustang and all." He eyed Shep and Crock warily and then turned back to my house.

I blanched and slid off the car, following him. "Steve, does Soda know?"

Shaking his head, he smoothed his hair back. "Nah. Pony, just-just don't do anything stupid. Ok?"

"Like what?" I said, shoving my hands in my pockets.

"Don't play stupid. I heard it. Soda heard it. You're smarter than that."

_Sometimes I wonder_, I thought to myself before rejoining Crock and Shep.

XXXX

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	11. Chapter 11

Hi everyone! Thanks for the earlier reviews and sorry for the delay. This will be my last update before Xmas because I am going home to see my family! Who's happy? I am!

So please leave reviews…and when the New Year is here I will def update ASAP!

This isn't the end of the story…I definitely want to continue with it…but let me know if ya'll are finding yourselves bored…b/c I don't want that to happen!

Enjoy!

XXXX

"And any talk of healthiness

And any talk of connectedness

And any talk of resolving this

Leaves you running for the door"

--Alanis Morrisette

XXXX

Ponyboy's POV

"Don't just stand there looking at me. C'mon toss me that belt."

"You're not really leaving," I said to Crocker and hesitantly picked up his belt.

He looked up from his bag. "Shoot Curtis, we've been here over a week. Best get on the road."

I narrowed my eyes. "What did Soda say to you?" The other day I had walked in on Soda and Crock in deep conversation. Well, actually it had seemed like Soda had been doing all the talking and Crock all the listening.

Crocker waved me off. "Nothing." Noticing my glare he shook his head. "Well nothing that I'd listen to anyways."

He slapped me on the arm and grabbed for the belt in my hand. I held on to it firmly, not releasing it and he faltered. "Tell me what he said."

Running a hand through his hair, he sat on the bed. "Oh it was something to the effect of 'stop putting ideas into my brother's head'." He saw my face and continued hurriedly. "But, he's not the reason we're going."

I plopped down next to him, my face stormy. "I can't believe him. I'd expect this from Darry…but Soda…"

Crock smiled weakly. "Don't worry about it. He's just doing his job."

"Yeah and driving everyone else crazy in the process," I spouted exasperatedly and then stopped when I noticed Crock's face. "What? What's wrong?"

"I just need to get out of here Curtis. Every time I sit still for too long –doesn't matter the place-I start to remember…over there…you know? I need to stay busy."

Slowly, I nodded. "But what are you going to do Crocker? Run your whole life?" Even as I said it I knew he'd try. Hell, I'd been trying that myself.

Staring at the floor he half-laughed, half-choked. "Guys I knew were killed. _My_ _friends_. And I think about it everyday. I don't know if I can ever forget…"

"You won't," I blurted out sharply. "It hasn't gotten any easier for me." Crock looked up at me in surprise and I finally told him about Johnny and Dallas.

When I'd finished he leaned back and whistled. "Shit Curtis. No wonder you're so screwed up." Silence filled the air and then we bust up laughing. When we had calmed down, his face became serious. "I really wish you could come with us. Maybe you need a change of scene."

"I already had that," I chuckled. "I ended up with a bullet in the stomach."

Crocker cocked his head. "Good point. Now give me that damn belt willya so I can pack."

XXXX

I helped Shep with the bags and he slammed the Mustang's trunk shut. He nodded at my brother's on the porch. "Think they'd notice if I stuffed you in too?"

"Yeah, I'm sure they would," I said distractedly as I watched Crocker shake hands with Darry and Soda. I noticed, with wry amusement that Soda avoided my gaze. Yet, I wasn't mad at him anymore. I was consigned to the idea that he would always be looking out for me…much to my deep regret.

"Ready?" Shep asked as Crocker approached us.

"Yup. I got the Slim Jim's if you've got the keys."

"Sure do, buddy. Sure-" Shep's face broke out into exaggerated panic as he patted his jeans pocket and found it empty.

"Shep, they're in the trunk keyhole," Crocker said bluntly. I pulled them out and tossed them to Shep.

"Now I'm ready," he said catching them. Turning to me, he hugged me. "Take care of yourself. Watch out for the clap."

I snorted and wriggled out of his embrace. "Take your own advice." Shep shot me a salute and jumped in the driver's seat.

"Well Curtis, it's your turn to visit next." Crock told me, gripping my shoulder. "We'll call when we get a place."

This time, I hugged him hard, trying to stamp out the lump in my throat. Then it came from nowhere: "Don't do anything stupid," I said randomly, giving him the same advice Steve had gave me the other night.

He pulled back to look at me strangely. "You worry too much."

I smiled weakly. "I know."

Shep gunned the motor and Crocker hopped in. "See ya kid!" he hollered as they drove away.

I watched the car disappear and I stayed glued to my spot on the sidewalk. What in the world was I going to do now?

XXXX

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	12. Chapter 12

Hey all! I hope everyone had a great holiday and an even better New Year. So here is my first update in 2007! I probably am a little rusty, so please forgive me and hopefully you enjoy it! I hope everyone is not getting bored…b/c I have a lot of ideas….

Please leave reviews!! I will surely love them!

XXXX

I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind

There was something so pleasant about that phase

Even your emotions had an echo

In so much space

And when you're out there

Without care,

Yeah, I was out of touch

But it wasn't because I didn't know enough

I just knew too much

-Gnarles Barkley

XXXX

Ponyboy's POV

"Kid? Yoohoo, Ponyboy? Kiddo?"

I looked up with irritation as Two-Bit waved a hand in front of my face. "What?"

"You want to do something tonight?"

Shrugging, I glanced back down at the paper in front of me. Classified ads sure weren't that interesting but I did need a job. Since Crock and Shep had gone I was going stir crazy around here.

Covertly, my eyes drifted to Darry who had seen Two-Bit and pulled him aside. "Well?" he asked Two-Bit. "Did you get him to leave the house?"

Two-Bit gave him the _what-do-you-think?_ look. Darry shut his eyes briefly and then glanced behind his shoulder, looking out for Soda. "Christ. I don't know what to do anymore, Two-Bit. He won't talk to anyone. He hasn't slept in a week. He's miserable."

I winced; Darry must be incredibly worried about me for him to expose his feelings to Two-Bit. Sure, I had been being difficult lately. I was in a state of limbo with no solace anywhere to be found. Nightmares and tired days plagued me. I was freaking out, I didn't know why and I didn't want anyone else to know either.

And the only two people who did understand were in California.

"Pone…" Darry said, coming up to the kitchen table, "I told you, you don't need a job."

"I know Darry. But I gotta do somethin'."

He gave me a bemused smile as I circled a job with a red ink pen. "Alright, just make sure it's temporary. School starts in a few months."

With determination, I laid down the pen and lifted my eyes to my brother. It was now or never.

"Darry," I said hesitating, "I don't think I'm going back to school."

Darry's mouth dropped open. He was dying inside, I could tell that already. Two-Bit, I noticed with amusement, was more concerned for my well being and Darry's eventual wrath. He seemed ready to pull the two of us apart if it came to that.

Darry took a deep breath and I saw his fists clench at his side.

_C'mon explode. Don't treat me any differently than you would have before._

Darry's fists relaxed but he remained pale. "Ponyboy, I know you say that now, but once you go back you'll see what you've missed…"

"No Darry. I'm done. It's not for me anymore."

"Kid," Two-Bit put in urgently, trying to diffuse the ensuing argument, "listen to him. Someone's got to be the college grad in this family." He laughed weakly.

"Butt out Two-Bit," Darry said harshly. He pulled out a chair next to me and sat in it. His face was just as resolute as my own. "Ponyboy, I don't want anymore lip about this. You're going back to school. You took a detour but it's time to get back on track. Enough of this BS."

I hung my head. "I can't promise you anything Darry."

I didn't see him leave, but I did hear him. The chair clattered and the front door slammed violently.

Yup. He was mad.

Two-Bit sighed. "Kid, you don't talk much these days. But when you do it's always the wrong thing."

My face burned with embarrassment and shame. Even good-natured Two-Bit was annoyed with me. Wadding up the paper in my hand, I stood and made my way toward the door. "Tell Soda I'll be gone until tonight." I grabbed my jacket and slammed the door just as hard as Darry had, leaving Two-Bit alone in the house.

XXXX

Sadly, with nothing better to do, I went to the park. I had attempted a few job interviews that afternoon, but it figured that no one wanted to hire a greaser kid with lousy clothes.

_Maybe Darry was right_, I mused with aggravation, _I do need some goddamn book skills because clearly no one will hire me for my looks. _I laughed bitterly, suddenly choking on it when I saw where I was left standing.

The fountain.

Rubbing my eyes, I sat down near the exact spot I had nearly been drowned by Bob and the other socs. I stared at my pale reflection in the clear water until dripping tears blurred it.

"Oh Jesus," I sniffed, wiping my eyes angrily. "I can't believe this."

My pity party was stopped short when I heard footsteps behind me. Slowly I turned around to meet a tall, lanky kid. His bloodshot eyes darted side to side nervously and he rubbed his nose. White powder smeared his nostrils.

"Hey-" Before I could finish my greeting the kid had reached in his back pocket and waved a blade in my face. "Oh man, you've got to be kidding me," I muttered angrily. What was it with this park?

"Your wallet." Dazed, I stared dumbfounded at his orders. "Now!" He jabbed the blade at me.

Jumping back, I fumbled with my wallet and then tossed it to him. "Here you go. Watch that damn blade."

He looked back at me with dark eyes. "And your jacket too."

"Seriously?" I asked stupidly, knowing I was definitely not a great candidate for robbery. Belittling and questioning everything the thief did was not the smartest tactic.

_It figures, the one night I think to bring a jacket I get it stolen._

Angrily, I took it off, nearly throwing it at him. Foolishly, I considered fighting him for it, as mad as I was that he had disrupted my night. Then, I noticed his shirt, army medals adorning the pocket. The fight went out of me.

"What unit were you in?" I asked him.

His face broke out into surprise, and then resumed its coldness. "Mind your own damned business you little brat." His hands shook as he brandished the blade in my face.

I fought the urge to laugh. Even my robber knew I was a kid. Holding up my hands I said, "No problem."

He raised an eyebrow and glared at me. I'm sure he considered knifing me then and there but he didn't. He popped my wallet in his pocket and ran off.

I finally exhaled as I watched his figure fade into the darkness of the night. I sank down next to the fountain and wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans.

I was too scared to move and too humiliated to go home.That kid had freaked me out. I saw myself in him: angry, not knowing what to do or where to go. I breathed heavily, watching my breath form white clouds in the cold night air.

Then, I stopped breathing.

He was me.

XXXX

Ok…I hope this story isn't too gloomy. But…I suppose it's what makes good drama right; the twists and turns? Well if you need a happy chapter let me know…I just don't want to get too depressing…haha…

Please leave reviews!!

Peace&Love


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks for the reviews everyone: _Addiction, Marauder, Yasu, Linda, xodamhsoirxo, TvLuVa, & Elsie Girl_! Although I know that is not working too well with the email alerts. But please keep reading and leaving reviews- it inspires me to update!

_Yasu Nozomi_: I'm sure you've got this, but the meaning about the robber was philosophical in the previous chapter. Or maybe it was just confusing. Haha. Well enjoy!

So here is lucky chapter #13-& a long one! So leave me lucky reviews!

Disclaimer: I own no characters from The Outsiders. S.E. Hinton does!

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La Rouge lies awake at night

Doesn't sleep for days

Guess he's carrying something

That the pillows can't take away

I feel just like him

'Cept for me it's double

…I got you, and you're trouble

Trouble

Trouble

I used to not need nothin'

Now trouble is all I need

--Harry Connick Jr.

XXXX

Darry's POV

I entered the house, much calmer than I had left it. Although, work hadn't been any easier than my home life. I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts about Ponyboy that I had nearly dropped a load of particleboard off the house I was roofing.

"_Darrel?" my boss had yelled at me. "What the hell is your problem today?"_

"_A 15-year old," I muttered back, hoping he didn't hear._

He had paused to frown. "Well get it together. I don't have time for your family issues."

I finally came to the conclusion that Ponyboy would go back to school, no matter how hard he complained. He'd go if I had to tie him to a chair and drag him back to his damn classroom.

If he didn't…well I didn't know what I'd do. I had briefly toyed with the idea of threatening to call the state -they'd definitely make him go. But I knew and I knew that _Ponyboy_ knew it was all hot air.

I'd never do that; I wasn't that sadistic. Besides, Soda would flip if he heard me say that.

_But would it work?_ I mused, laughing to myself, as I slung off my coat.

Two-Bit was on the couch watching some old film. "How'd it go today?" I asked him. In the background, the shower was running. I glared at Soda's oily work clothes piled up outside the bathroom.

His eyes didn't turn away from the TV, but I heard the edge in his voice. "How would I know? Kid bolted as soon as you left."

"Where'd he go?"

"He said he'd be back tonight. Not sure when."

Rubbing my eyes, I slammed the door shut again. Hard.

"Now _that_ is what gets you into trouble," Two-Bit lectured irately, his gray eyes burning.

I coughed into my hands and rubbed them together, trying to not let Two-Bit's accusation get to me. "Thanks for the tip, but why don't you let me manage my brother."

Two-Bit's jaw clenched but he said nothing else. Soda waved a 'hello' to me as he exited the bathroom and darted for his bedroom. I went into my own to change.

Fumbling with my watch, I heard the phone in the living room ring. 3 times, 4 times, 5 times, 6 times... "Son of a-," I cursed, darting out to grab it.

I was too late.

"Two-Bit dammit, why didn't you get that?"

"It's your house; I wouldn't want to interfere," he shot back resentfully, gesturing grandly at the phone.

I stared at him with annoyance. Now I knew exactly where Ponyboy got that smartass streak.

The phone rang again.

"See, they called back." Two-Bit smugly returned to his show.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Curtis?"

"Yes, this is Darrell."

"Sir, this is the Tulsa PD department. We're calling regarding your brother-"

Since Sodapop was here and not avoiding me, I guessed that left Ponyboy. My fist clenched the phone tighter while my other hand smoothed out the wrinkles in my forehead.

"My brother, what did he do?" I asked furiously, yet already resigned to making bail.

The voice on the other line coughed abruptly and then cleared his throat. "Um, sir, I'm sorry to tell you this, but it seems your brother was involved in a gang fight earlier this evening."

I sighed, tugging the phone into the kitchen. "Tell me where he is and I'll come get him."

Again the voice hesitated. "Sir, you don't seem to understand. We need you to come down to the station and…identify the body."

"What?" I said dryly. The air left the room. I grabbed the wall.

Papers ruffled over the phone. "Ponyboy Curtis, your brother, was found downtown in an alleyway. He was severely beaten and stabbed numerous times," the detached voice said. "We do need you to come down to the department."

I hung up.

Not another phone call. Not like my parents. I couldn't do it.

But I had to. "Darry?" Soda questioned, peeping in the kitchen. His eyes died when he saw my expression.

Weakly, I turned to him. "Tulsa Police." At this, Two-Bit joined us in the kitchen. "They found Ponyboy."

"Is he okay?"

I shook my head. "No…they want me to come down and ID the body."

XXXX

Numbly, Soda and I sat in the basement of the police department, waiting for the coroner to meet us. Two-Bit had tried to come, but I had told him to stay put. I figured by now he was well into his second 6-pack.

Soda had cried in the car when I told him what I knew from the phone conversation. And I had tried my hardest not to jerk the truck off the road and into the nearest tree. We were already down to two; why not take out the whole Curtis family while we were at it.

Sodapop sat two seats away from me, his eyes tinged pink, his hands playing with a pack of cigarettes. He hadn't said a word since we arrived.

Footsteps echoed down the white corridor. A bald man approached, dressed in a long white jacket. He made no move to shake hands. "I'm the coroner, Jonah Melfry. You're the family of Ponyboy Curtis?"

_No shit head, we're just sitting here for kicks_, I wanted to say angrily as Soda made small groan. Instead, I cleared my throat and said, "Yes, Darrell Curtis."

Dr. Melfry looked from Soda to me. "Who will be identifying the body?"

Soda held up his hands in a _stop_ motion. "I can't Darry. I just can't."

"It's okay Sodapop," I told him. "You don't have to." Shamefully, he stared down at the floor.

"So, I guess that leaves you then," Melfry said monotonously, gesturing me to follow him. We went 30 paces, turned a corner and then stopped only to face a window with blinds.

Melfry put his hand on the lift cord. "I'm going to open this and you take a look. Let me know if it's him." He paused, only to fidget with his jacket lapel. "You ready?"

I nodded and clenched my eyes shut. I heard the blinds open and I took a deep breath, readying myself. Opening my eyes, I steeled myself for the shock.

But…it wasn't him.

"It's…it's not him," I choked out gruffly. "It's not him."

Melfry frowned. "You sure? Take a good look and-"

"I told you," I snapped, wheeling away from the window, "it's not him!" Melfry shrank away and disappeared into another room.

Relief overwhelmed me and I squatted on my heels, leaning back against the wall. I breathed deeply into my palms. "Thank you," I whispered. "Thank you."

Melfry returned, coming back with a paper bag. "Is this your brother's wallet?"

Ignoring my cracking bones, I stood up to take a look. "Yes. And that's his jacket too," I said suddenly noticing the rest of the contents of the bag. "But that," I pointed back to the glass window, "is not him."

"Well, these possessions were found on the kid." Melfry rubbed his chin, almost detective-like. "Hmm, I wonder who he is…"

I snatched the wallet back from him and turned to go get Soda. I had more pressing matters to take care of then, such as letting Soda in on this new situation.

Soda met me in the middle of the corridor. "They were wrong," I explained gently. "It's someone else."

Distress twisted to rage on Soda's face. "Jesus Christ, Darry! Did they even check their goddamned facts first before they called us? Did they think this was fun for us? I mean hell-"

I placed an arm on his shoulder to calm him. "The kid, whoever he was, had Pony's wallet on him. They just did their job." I watched him warily; Soda had had to take in some intense information tonight and I didn't want him to have a heart attack on the spot.

Soda blanched. "So where the hell is our brother?"

Right now, I didn't know and I didn't care. All I cared about was that Ponyboy wasn't the one lying on the slab back there.

And that made up for everything.

XXXX

Ok please leave reviews! I really hoped you liked this chapter-it's a long one!!

Peace&Love


	14. Chapter 14

Ok everyone here is another long chapter! Thanks SO much for all the reviews they def spurred me on to write quicker!

Zikachik73: thanks so much for the review! It was so sweet and I giggled with happiness! Haha.

AlleyCat80: Wouldn't that be a cruel twist of irony? Haha. Nice thought.

Ok-everyone enjoy and please leave reviews.

XXXX

I been in the right place

But it must have been the wrong time

I'd of said the right thing

But I must have used the wrong line

I been in the right trip

But I must have used the wrong car

My head was in a bad place

And I'm wondering what it's good for

--Dr. John

XXXX

Pony's POV

Bitter and defeated, I trudged home cursing my foul luck and even fouler temper.

My nerves were shot. I had sat shivering for the last two hours in the park until I had fallen asleep on the hard concrete. The final blow to the night had come when I had woken up screaming bloody murder.

Another nightmare. Something concerning Dally, Johnny and the war. What else?

The only bright side was that I had possibly spared Darry and Soda another night of fretting over me.

I really didn't want to go home and break the embarrassing news. Two-Bit would have a field day with this, Soda would be concerned and no doubt Darry would give me that look of his: _You lost your jacket? Why didn't you have a blade on you? _

Same story, different day.

But I had no choice; I had no wallet. I couldn't go see a movie or buy any comics.

Stumbling up the steps, I wrenched the door open against the howling wind.

The house was dark but soft voices floated out into it from the kitchen. "So Darry and Soda haven't called?" Steve asked. My hand groped blindly for the light switch.

"No," Two-Bit said miserably. "I couldn't take it anymore. I needed to get some more beer."

"No you didn't buddy. You're drunk enough off your ass as it is. I'm lucky I found you over at Buck's. Here drink some coffee."

Two-bit made a choked sound and Steve paused. " I really can't believe it."

"It's my fault," Two-Bit said morosely. "I got him upset and he took off."

"Stop playing the damn martyr," Steve snapped. Then in a shocked tone he said, "I'm sorry Two-Bit."

I smirked. _Well, if it isn't what I've lived my entire life to hear: a Steve Randle apology._

Finding the light, I flipped it on only to trip over a few bottles of beer. They clanked together as I danced around them. "Son of a…Goddammit Two-Bit, I almost broke my neck!" I yelled.

Instantly, the kitchen was still.

"Fine, I'll pick them up myself you filthy pig," I muttered angrily as I swept the room.

Steve and Two-Bit stood in the kitchen, frozen. Two-Bit stared at me in disbelief while Steve paled considerably.

"What?" I asked, running a hand through my hair.

Two-Bit backed away from me. Steve turned on Two-Bit. "Was this some kind of sick joke?"

Two-Bit shook his head mutely, eyes wide. Then he covered his eyes and whispered in a barely audible tone, "Am I dead?"

"I thought you were drunk," I retorted. Then I gawked at him closely. "What's wrong with you?"

"Kid," Steve approached me slowly, speaking in a cautious tone, "we thought _you_ were dead."

I faltered, confused as to whether take Steve seriously or not. "Huh?" was my only articulate reply.

"Your brothers," Steve explained hurriedly, "they got a call, something about going to ID a body." He paused at my bewildered expression and his own bewildered look came upon his face. Steve chuckled weakly. "And I'm guessing it wasn't you."

"Why would they…" All of a sudden it dawned on me. My hand flew to my back pocket. Empty. "Oh crap!"

So much for not worrying them tonight.

Steve and I stared at each other unsure of what the next steps were in this sort of situation.

"We gotta go find them Steve!" I suddenly blurted. "Who knows what they're thinking-" Panicked, I moved toward the door.

"Oh no you don't," Steve said briskly, darting out and grabbing my arm. "You're not leaving this house again tonight. Let's just sit here…and wait," he said a little more calmly.

I frowned at him, but I nodded and sat tentatively on the edge of the couch.

"I feel sick," Two-Bit interrupted bluntly, stalking off into the bathroom.

"Welcome to the club," I said, upset at the mess I was in.

We sat in silence for five minutes or so; my face buried in my hands, while Steve puffed through a pack of smokes. He grinned at me and blew a smoke ring. "I figure Darry'll be too caught up with you to even give a shit."

"You're a genius, Steve," I shot back exasperatedly.

He readied himself for some pissed-off reply but it was cut short by Darry bursting in. "Is he here?" he asked Steve breathlessly without noticing me.

Soda saw me. He flew around Darry and grabbed me. He hugged me harder than I had ever been hugged before-if that was even possible. "Oh God," was all he could say.

"Sorry for the scare," I said, doubting he even heard it since my face was pressed into his shoulder.

Soda kissed the top of my head and pulled back to look at me. "You have no idea."

I saw Darry's face then. A face I had only seen once before; when he got the call about our parent's. It was a look I had tried to forget ever since. If Darry were scared who would be strong for Soda and me?

I just went to him and hugged him.

His arms closed shakily around me and I heard him exhale with relief. "I don't think I've ever been so-" he caught himself, "…worried."

I knew he had wanted to say _scared_.

Laughing softly I said, "And this time, I didn't even purposely cause it."

He shook his head and then dropped into his recliner. "I don't think I'll ever move from this spot again," he sighed. "What happened tonight Pony?"

My eyes dropped to the floor. "I got robbed. I was taking a walk and this guy pulled a blade. I gave him my wallet." Steve raised an eyebrow and ashed his cigarette into an empty beer bottle. "Darry, if I had known the trouble he was going to cause I _would have_ fought him for it."

Darry rubbed his eyes. "Pony, I really don't want to hear that." Then he looked at me through his fingers. "Please tell me you didn't consider it."

Soda, injured and angry, spoke up, "Well I guess that guy got what he had coming to him."

Steve and I both shot Soda the same incredulous look. Even though he was speaking all our minds, a downright cruel Soda was rare.

"What?" Soda asked Steve. "That guy pulls a blade on Pony and you expect me to feel bad for him?" Soda threw an arm around me protectively.

Then I realized that the queasy feeling building up in my stomach was because I _did_ feel bad for the guy. I hated him and yet I pitied him. I _had_ been him over there and I could have been him back here.

_Still could,_ a voice reminded me.

"Pony," Darry interrupted my thoughts. "Go to bed. You need some rest." He watched me worriedly as I shook my head. "It's ok. Soda and I are fine. A little shook up, but we'll survive."

"I'll go find Two-Bit," I said feebly.

"Steve, are you smoking?" I heard Darry ask grumpily as I knocked on the bathroom door.

"Two-Bit? You alive in there?"

I heard a grunt so I opened the door and went in, praying he wasn't throwing up his guts. Two-Bit was lying in the empty bathtub. I grimaced, wondering how long it had been since it had been cleaned. I sat opposite him, on the toilet lid.

"Glad to hear you're not in the morgue right now," he said.

"Thanks. That was news to me too."

"I think," he shifted in the tub, "that I'll need a new liver after tonight."

"Nah," I grinned thinly. "Yours will last for years to come."

"I heard what happened," he said, switching topics. "About the robber."

"Ok, ok, get your jokes in while it lasts," I sighed.

"No. No jokes." He smiled but his eyes didn't. "Promise me something kid. Watch yourself. You're awfully lucky…"

I groaned, resigned to another lecture from Two-Bit.

"…and I don't want to be there when your luck runs out. Please. I couldn't do it again."

I shifted uncomfortably. I knew Two-Bit was drunk, but his words were honest, provoking my tamped down fear.

My stomach jumped and I did too. Then I told him, blurting it out. "He…he was in Vietnam. I saw his medals."

Two-Bit's head jerked up in surprise. "Oh, kid," he said softly. "That's not you."

I just stared at him. It better not be.

XXXX

Ok-I tried to make this chapter good/touching, but not cheesy. Hopefully I succeeded…let me know, leave reviews!

Peace&Love


	15. Chapter 15

Another chapter! Thanks for the last reviews! Love 'em!

I will try to update again this weekend…since this is a short chapter.

Please leave more reviews! Yay! 

P.s. apologies in advance for any random typos. I stayed up late writing this.

Also: I own no characters. They are S.E. Hinton's.

XXXX

"What are you changing?  
Who do you think you're changing?

You can't change things; we're all stuck in our ways

It's like trying to clean the ocean

What do you think you can drain it?

Well it was poison and dry long before you came."

--Jenny Lewis

XXXX

Ponyboy's POV

"Sodapop, if you ask the waitress if she'll color the eggs purple, I swear I'm walking out the door," Darry hissed at a grinning Soda.

"But you're still going to pay right?" Soda threw me a loopy grin. Darry laughed and relaxed into the booth.

I picked at the red cracking upholstery while pretending to study the menu. Darry and Soda had a rare day off together; so in another rare moment Darry had suggested breakfast at the local diner. Steve and Two-Bit usually would've tagged along, however Darry had dragged us out the door at an unholy hour this morning.

"Darry," Soda had whined, "don't you ever want to sleep in?"

"See anything good Pony?" Darry asked, flipping open the newspaper.

Sighing inwardly, I shrugged. Darry had been too polite, too calm. It was driving me nuts; it wasn't like my brother to be patient.

Foolishly, I had wondered aloud to Two-Bit how long he could last which eventually bred into a bet. He-generously-gave Darry a month before he reverted back to his old self, while I gave him two weeks. My bet was almost up; I was beginning to think I had better pick a fight with him soon, guaranteeing Two-Bit a loss.

"Sure, everything looks-" I broke off suddenly, my words sticking in my mouth as I caught a glimpse of the back of Darry's paper.

"What?" Darry asked.

"Nothing."

Darry narrowed his eyes. _Liar_, they said. Flipping over the paper, he scanned it, trying to find out what had caught my attention.

On the back of the paper was my robber's obituary.

"Nothing," I repeated quickly, arranging my silverware. Soda watched me curiously. With too much force, I punched the spoon and it flew across the diner, landing on an older couple's table.

I cocked my head at Darry, a smiling flitting across my face. Maybe this would do it. Soda choked on his drink.

Mortified, Darry bit his lip and nodded at the surprised couple. "Sorry. I'm really sorry."

Soda snorted on a laugh, trying to follow Darry's example of appearing embarrassed. "Boys will be boys," he said cheesily, ruffling my hair with exageration.

I nearly slid under the table, but was thankful Darry's mind was off of the paper. I figured he wouldn't recognize the robber, but if he did it definitely wouldn't be pleasant breakfast conversation.

"This is why I don't take you two anywhere," Darry quipped easily. He folded up the paper and took a sip of coffee.

I made a point to check out the paper when I got back home.

XXXX

I settled myself on the front steps with the paper. I took a long drag on my cigarette before reading; my nerves needed to be steadied.

There situated in the top right corner was the small obituary; a meaningless 2X2 square.

But it wasn't meaningless. It could have been mine.

"_James Richard Logan, 22, passed March 10._

_Funeral services will be held this Thursday, 2pm at the Chapel of Christ."_

_That was all? _I frowned and stubbed out my smoke.

It had been two weeks since March 10. Someone must have just recently claimed the body. I wondered if his family had even known he was gone, if they cared…

I stared at his picture: the same unsmiling, hard face, that I had met in the park. The robbery itself hadn't shaken me up that much. It was more of an insult to my inattentiveness that he had gotten the drop on me.

What bothered me was that I felt bad for him, I felt like I knew him. _Did he have nightmares too? Did he know what to do anymore?_

He was a ball of me, Johnny and Dallas all rolled into him. Especially Dallas, I thought wryly.

Two-Bit and Steve came walking up the drive. Two-Bit gave Steve a flat tire: pulling off the back of Steve's shoe with his own foot. Steve's show came off and he stumbled over it. "Damn you," he cursed.

"Anytime, buddy." Leaving Steve to wrestle with his shoe Two-Bit plopped down next to me. Then he studied me closer. "Jeez, it looks like you spent the night in a trench, Pony."

"You could say that." I rubbed my eyes tiredly.

_A round of nightmares, anyone? _

Coming up the steps, Steve paused beside us and caught a glance at the paper.

"Kid, you sure have some odd interests," he said doubtfully, going inside.

Two-Bit glanced at the paper. "Anything interesting in those?" He chuckled uneasily.

"Oh you'd be surprised," I mused, breaking into a yawn. Then I sat up straighter. "Say, Two-Bit, what are you doing tomorrow? Around 2 o'clock?"

XXXX

Leave reviews!

Peace&Love


	16. Chapter 16

New chapter up! Please review…

I think I'll be wrapping up this story soon…ya'll need to let me know if it you want me to keep going or end it. I could go either way; I just feel that it may be dragging a bit.

Let me know!

_Superdope_: Thanks for your dedicated reviews! ;) Everyone else, thank you too!

XXXX

And I walked into the bar yesterday  
Cause I had something to do, something to say  
And Johnny walked in right behind me and I didn't turn around  
Til I heard the sound of his feet falling on the ground  
I looked over my shoulder and I saw a clown  
And I said what'cha doin' in the bar tonight.

So I said Johnny whatcha doing tonight?  
He looked at me with a face full of fright  
And I said, how bout a revolution?  
And he said right.

-O.A.R.

XXXX

"You're insane. Absolutely, certifiably insane," Two-Bit hissed at me as we walked into the church. "I don't know why in hell I'm doing this."

"Because I talked you into it. Now shut up."

"Look at me," Two-Bit whispered. "Listening to a 15-year old."

"Would you stop talking to yourself?" I shot back. "People _are_ going think we're insane."

It had taken a lot of badgering to get Two-Bit to go to the funeral today. And he had bitched all the way. I was already regretting my decision to invite him.

"Kid, you don't know what you're talking about," he had moaned when I told him my plans. Yet, he reluctantly gave in, not wanting me to go it alone. I didn't mention it to Darry or Soda, knowing they would absolutely not have it.

I felt I owed it to James, and myself, as if it would help me cope.

Yup. That was me. Ponyboy Curtis. Do-gooder extraordinaire.

I stopped between the rows of pews. The church was absolutely empty. My eyes widened, shocked at the unappreciated funeral.

"Oh man, I don't do well in churches." Two-bit stopped, noticing my silence. He shot me a doubtful glance. "You sure you want to be here…?"

"Let me just go…up there."

Two-Bit gave me a look of uncertain concern, but said nothing else, sliding into the nearest pew.

To my relief, the casket was closed. It was nothing special, perhaps a little better than a cardboard box. A few flowers adorned the pulpit. I set a hand on the casket, and then jerked it off.

What in the hell was I doing?

Turning around to bolt, I nearly ran into an older woman. "Hello," she rasped, scooting around me. She was about 30 with limp brown hair and a thin, sunken face.

"Hi."

She just looked at me and then held out her hand. "Regina Logan. Jimmy's sister." Mutely, I shook it. "How do you know Jimmy?"

"I…I didn't really."

She frowned.

I decided to screw the niceties, bluntly stating, "He robbed me."

The frown disappeared and was replaced with a sad smile. "Oh." She rolled her eyes and sighed. "That was Jimmy. An idiot. Always snorting something."

I frowned at the harshness of her words but Regina didn't pick up on it. Instead, she surveyed the church. Two-Bit ducked and feigned interest in the Bible. "I don't know why I expected anyone to show today. I barely wanted to come myself."

I gaped at her. Regina chuckled callously, brushing away a wisp of ashy hair. "Oh, you poor thing. I must sound like a raging bitch. But, humor me, why did you come?"

"No reason," I said lamely. Sticking my hands in my pockets, I stepped around her. But I couldn't leave yet. Avoiding her gaze I asked her, "Was Jimmy in the war?"

Anger swept across her features. "Unfortunately. They ruined him. He was a good boy. But not after he got back. I barely recognized him." She wiped away a non-existent tear and tugged at her hair again. Suddenly, her fingers flitted to her mouth. "Oh sweetie. Is that why you came?"

Backing up, I said nothing but she saw the answer in my eyes. Regina outstretched her right arm, her bony fingers curling around my bicep and jerked me toward her. "I get it. Completely. Your brother…" she waved her hand at me, "came back destroyed. Is that it?"

Shifting uneasily, I dropped my eyes. "Something like that."

"Honey, you got to be strong for him. I wasn't." Her eyes flicked to the stain glass window above us. "But sometimes that doesn't even work."

I glanced at her, something in her distracted tone made me really look at her. In the harsh light of the church, she looked haunted. I stood my ground, refusing to be scared of mere words.

"You know what the last thing I said to him was? I told him he embarrassed me. That I hated him and what he had done."

She ripped at her hair again. "So, I'm here out of guilt. I wish I knew who was in that casket. But I don't. He was a ridiculous waste."

I must have uttered a choked cough because she dropped her hand from my arm. Regina hacked out a rough laugh. "Listen to me, I'm no goddamn psychotherapist. Kid, forget my inane babble. Only the dead know what I'm talking about."

Unfortunately, I did too.

XXXX

Thanks for reading! Leave reviews!


	17. Chapter 17

Apologies all around for my lateness. And thanks to all who reviewed, hopefully you will leave me some more feedback. But happily, I will be updating more often because (yay) my writer's block is over (hopefully). Please leave reviews, comments and suggestions!

Also, pardon any grammar. It's been a long night.

This is how it works  
you're young until you're not  
you love until you don't  
you try until you can't  
you laugh until you cry  
you cry until you laugh  
and everyone must breathe  
until their dying breath

-Regina Spektor

XXXX

Ponyboy's POV

The next few weeks passed by in a blur. My life wasn't busy or distracted; it was the opposite. Having nothing to do and feeling empty I simply checked out. Awake, I numbly went through the motions of the days. Asleep I had nightmares, and I was more awake for those than I was awake in reality.

I really needed a wake up call.

XXXX

Soda met me as I ran home from a day at the track, adrenaline pumping through my body. I enjoyed the feeling of energy I had as I crashed through the door Soda held open for me, unaware of how fast I was going.

As usual, I tripped.

My foot snagged the carpet and I flew across the living room, landing face first on the carpet. "I give that a 10.0 ladies and gentleman," Two-Bit sang out, holding a hand down to help me up.

"Too generous. I'd give it a 6." Steve said, sauntering out of the kitchen, poker cards in hand. "He didn't land right."

"Sorry Steve. Next time I'll try to get it right and plant myself through a plate glass window. How does that sound?" I said, rubbing my elbow.

Steve scowled and retreated to the poker game. "Damn kid, can't take a joke anymore," he muttered to Two-Bit.

"Aw, you're just mad because he's becoming a bigger smartass than you," Two-Bit told him, laughing. He flashed me two thumbs up.

I smiled. _Annoy Steve Randle. Check. My work here was done._

"Have a good run?" Soda asked, biting back a chuckle as Steve railed against Two-Bit.

"Sure. Except for that last bit." I gestured to the floor. "Could have done without that."

Soda swung his arm around my neck and towed me to the kitchen. "C'mon, pull up a seat."

Sliding into a chair, I asked him, "Don't you have work?"

He grinned mischievously. "That's the beauty of being shop managers, we can take a day off now and then."

"And stick two other poor suckers in our place," Steve finished.

"A poker game did feel about right today," Two-Bit added gamely. "Want me to deal you in Pony?"

"No thanks. I'll just watch you get your ass kicked."

"Them's fighting words," he drawled in a hick-accent and popped the top to his beer.

Steve sighed exasperatedly, covertly blaming me for the game distraction.

"Alright let's get down to business," Soda said clapping his hands together. Amazingly, a few games went by without Soda cheating. And almost equaling as amazing was that Two-Bit was beating both Soda and Steve. Soda's face read _let the cheating began_. I was impressed he had resisted the urge for so long, since I knew he had a few aces and kings stuffed someplace on him.

"Oh by the way Ponyboy, some mail came for you today," Soda announced. "It's over on the counter."

Hoping that the mail was from Crock or Shep, whom I hadn't heard from in a while, I jumped out of my seat eagerly. Sitting on top of the bills and junk mail was a medium sized box, addressed to _P. Curtis_. I pried the edges of the box loose from the tape and opened it. Inside was a leather sheath. Curiously, I unclasped the latch and out slid a switchblade.

But not just a switchblade. _The_ switchblade.

With shaky hands, I read the attached note written in loopy cursive:

_Kid, enjoy this. Jimmy would have wanted you to._

_-Regina Logan_

What kind of sick joke was this? Eerily, it felt a little like getting a gift from a ghost. _The way Johnny's note had. The way my nightmares-_

My hands were burning. They were on fire. They fell away from the blade and it clattered to the tile. It spun in slow circles, almost freakishly slow, and watching it I begin to feel dizzy. Panicked. My chest was pounding and I clamped my eyes shut against the bright light. I bent over the sink, willing myself not to pass out.

I felt a hand on my back. Soda didn't say anything he just patted my back until I straightened up and pulled away from him. "Do you feel okay?" he asked me, trying to feel my forehead thinking I had the flu.

Steve, ever the concerned, held up the blade he had swiped from the ground. "Pretty nice blade, Pony. Who's it from?"

They hadn't put two and two together. And why would they? Not many switchblades cause people to see bright lights and nearly crap their pants. But then again, not many people were involved with switchblades as much as I was.

Without answering Steve, I violently grabbed the note and thrust it in front of Two-Bit. "Read this. Read it." I commanded his baffled face.

His eyes scanned the note. "This isn't…?" he asked me shocked, understanding the significance of the blade but not believing it had been sent to me.

"Why?" I nearly yelled, knowing everyone in the room thought I was coming unglued. But I wasn't. I was furious. I had done a decent deed by going to my robber's funeral and this is where it got me. "Why would she do that?"

Earnestly, Two-Bit said, "God knows why. Maybe the broad's a tiny bit crazy like good ol' Jimmy was." Two-Bit and I groaned at the same time and then began laughing like crazy people at the absurdity of it all.

"Would uh, someone mind telling me what's going on?" Soda spoke easily enough, but there was a sharp edge to his voice. He didn't like not being let in on his kid brother's problems.

"A few weeks ago I went to Jimmy's funeral." At Soda's blank stare, I continued. "The guy who robbed me. I met his sister and for some odd reason she sent me the very knife her brother robbed me with." I tried to toss this out lightly, take some of the sting out of what had just happened.

Soda's jaw dropped. "What?" he asked in disbelief. "Why would you…?" I raised an eyebrow waiting for my flabbergasted brother to continue. Suddenly, Soda turned to Two-Bit. "And I suppose you went with him?"

"Well, I-"

"Why in the world did you let him go?" Soda growled at Two-Bit, who stopped mid-swig on his beer to shoot me an incredulous look.

"Soda," I said through gritted teeth, "Soda." But he didn't hear me and continued to lecture poor Two-Bit.

And then I did the one thing I thought I would never do. I got mad at Sodapop.

"Goddammit Soda! He's not my keeper!"

Two-Bit winced at Steve as Soda snapped his mouth shut. Then softly, apologetically Soda said, "Pone, kiddo, I'm sorry. I just want to look out for you." He shook his head and took off his DX cap.

_Can it Soda_, I wanted to say angrily. But I didn't. Instead, I snatched the blade back from Steve. "I'm going to get rid of this."

XXXX

Leave reviews! I know it has been oh so long and I don't deserve them…but this is a long chapter AND I now have more plot points for the story so if you want me to continue I can!

Peace&Love


	18. Chapter 18

Yay-a fast update for you to show my appreciation for waiting so long for my last update. Thanks for the reviews everyone…please leave more. It really does help spur me on to write!

XXXX

"And I feel just like I'm living someone else's life

It's like I just stepped outside

When everything was going right

And I know just why you could not

Come along with me…"

-Michael Buble

XXXX

Pony's POV

"Pretty nice blade to be throwin' in the trash."

I buried my face in my pillow. "Soda, leave me alone."

"Oh, but I ain't Soda."

I sat up quickly only to find myself back in Windrixville. The church was still burning and I was still there. I rubbed my eyes.

"Now you're frustrated with me," the voice said.

I looked up into the speaker's face and said angrily: "Well, you did rob me. And hold me at knifepoint. And then your nutso sister gave me a little memorabilia of _that_ occasion."

Jimmy smiled fondly. "Yeah. She always was thoughtful."

I backed away from him. The church seemed a more appealing than Jimmy Logan. I wanted him out of my dreams; I wanted him out of my life.

Shoot, he didn't really scare me as much as unnerve me. He was me…only in a darker way.

I began to walk away. Jimmy yelled at me as I left him standing by Dallas's car. "Did you ever think that switchblade was sent to you for a reason? Did you ever think you might need it?"

Inadvertently, I paused. In fact, the foreboding sensation that it might come in handy one of these days _had_ crossed my mind as I held the blade over our trash bin. But in the end, I didn't care. I'd had enough of knives and fights. Let whatever come, come. I couldn't be lucky forever.

I just hoped my lazy approach to fate wouldn't bite me in the ass.

I shook off Jimmy's words; I walked through the blazing church and came out the other side, into my another nightmare. The war. It was dark and humid; I choked on the thick air.

"Where's your gear soldier?" a sharp voice asked, then cracked into a laugh.

"Hey Dallas," I said with amusement.

"Kid, I can't believe you survived over here."

"Yeah well, I did what I could." I said uncaringly Where's Johnny?" I ventured.

"He's sitting this one out." Dallas shrugged. "Had enough of fighting."

"I know the feeling," I said bitterly.

"Ponyboy, ever think you should stop fighting yourself and everyone else? You're not going to go back to your saintly little self. And I don't think you want that anyways." Dallas glared at the ground darkly. "The sooner your brothers get that into their thick skulls then everyone will be happy."

I smiled with relief, glad that Dallas saw what I saw. "Good thing the only ally I have is over here in the afterlife."

He shot me a rare smile back. "However, I must admit you threw me for a loop by going to Jimmy's funeral."

I flushed with embarrassment. "Some habits are hard to break, I suppose."

"Now I don't know about that," Dally said wryly. He turned from me to peer into the dark unknown. The church burned from a distance, the smoky smells wafting toward us. When he faced me I shivered. Something in Dally's face wasn't quite…right. His eyes glittered maliciously. "But I bet I can break you." In a second he had his revolver pointing directly at me.

Only this time it wasn't a bluff. This time I knew it was loaded.

I held up my hands to stop him. "Dal, what are you-"

"Sorry kid. We all got to break sometime."

"Dal, no!" I screamed as the gun exploded.

XXXX

I screamed so loud I woke myself up, my sonorous cry echoing around the small bedroom. Soda sat up in shocked surprise as I jumped off the bed and scrambled into the bathroom, trying to find my footing in my drowsy state. My pale face stared back at me from the mirror. Shakily, I switched on the cold faucet and washed my face furiously, scrubbing away the tears that threatened to fall.

Darry and Soda spoke in low tones from outside the locked bathroom. The doorknob twisted. "He locked it," Darry told Soda with frustration.

Looking up, I stared at my reflection once again in the mirror. Water dripped from my face as I imagined a hole appearing in my head right where Dallas has aimed the gun.

_Bright red. Dripping blood. Gray brain-_

Frightened, I stumbled backwards, slipped on the rug and narrowly missed cracking my head on the back of the tub. Resigned, I sat on my ass, head buried in the arms propped up on my knees.

_Damn my overactive imagination._

I really didn't know what had messed me up the most. My parents, Dally and Johnny, or Vietnam. Either way, I just couldn't shake the past.

"Pony, open the door." Darry tried to sound commanding when in fact he sounded concerned.

I punched my palms into my eyes, ignoring the shooting yellow sparks that appeared there. "Leave me alone."

"We'll stay here until you come out of there," Soda warned.

"Fine," I smarted back. "You'll be out there all night. Just go away."

"Pone," Soda pleaded softly. I said nothing, just sat silently in the soft glow of the bathroom lights.

XXXX

Around two a.m. I exited the bathroom. They had left me but when I opened the bedroom door Soda was sitting on the bed, back up against the headboard, flipping through a comic book. At my entrance, he tossed the comic down onto the floor.

"I thought you slipped out the bathroom window," he said softly.

"Nope. Still here," I chuckled lamely, coming around to the bed. I made a move to flick off the light, ending the conversation, but Soda grabbed my wrist.

"Tell me. Tell me what the dream was about."

I shook my head, biting my lip. "I don't remember."

"Don't lie to me."

His words stung, but they made me crack. "I was back in Vietnam. Dallas was there," I said drowsily, sleep suddenly hitting me hard. "He had a gun. And he shot me with it."

_He said I was going to break._

Soda blanched and hung his head. "God Ponyboy, I wished to hell you never had found that damn draft letter."

I recoiled, wrenching my wrist free. "Soda! I couldn't let you go. If you had died…" I stopped, horrified at the very thought.

Soda exploded. "Dammit Ponyboy! Did you ever think about what it would do to me if _you_ died? To Darry? You took my place! Do you know how goddamn guilty I would have felt? How guilty I still feel when I see you walking around in a daze? When you have your nightmares?"

Soda took a breath, struggling with words. And that really freaked me out. Because Soda always knew exactly what to say. Unlike me, he didn't have to think things through; he just knew. "You keep things from me. You never used to."

"I knew how you'd react, exactly like today."

"Yes but-but why tell Two-Bit then? Why take him?"

I shrugged, trying not to feel like a horrible person at what I said next. "He's not my brother. He can handle things you and Darry can't." My words washed over Soda and after a few moments of silence he slowly nodded. But he didn't look at me.

"Maybe if I went to California…I could figure things out," I hinted hopefully.

Soda's head jumped back up and he wasn't smiling. "No way. Absolutely not."

"But why?" I protested. "I need to-"

"You can't run away from it. What you need to do is let me and Darry help you."

I sat back down on the bed and tapped his shoulder. "I'm trying Soda. I really am."

He looked at me closely, intently. "I know you went over there for me and I love you for it kiddo. But it should have changed my life not yours; you weren't supposed to go." He smiled and ruffled my hair with his long fingers. "Darry and I…we just didn't want to lose you."

"Soda," I said truthfully, since tonight was a night for honesty, "I think I'm already lost." I didn't want to scare him; I just wanted him to know.

Any bit of color Soda had left drained from his face; even his lips were white. He wanted honesty tonight, but he couldn't take mine. Soda shook his head forcefully. "No. You're not. It may take a while…but you're not." His voice cracked and he swiped at his eyes quickly. "You can't be."

Soda stared at the door forlornly, as if he wanted Darry to walk right in and save the day. "Just give it time Ponyboy."

_Time_.

Boy, I sure hope I had some. Because the dreams I had been having lately hadn't really been in my favor.

XXXX

I love morose endings.

Haha.

Seriously: Really sorry for all the depressing endings…it's because a) that's what I write best or b) I love leaving you in suspense! Please don't kill me!

Peace&Love…review please!


	19. Chapter 19

Another update just for all of you! Thanks for the reviews and please leave many more.

_Laughing_, _Xocrazililkelox, Elsie girl, swizzlet, Soda's girl, Alleycat, xodamhsoirxo, Blondie_: Thanks for the reviews…here is another chap for you! You all are so great!

XXXX

Well, I never heard it said quite like that  
It hit me in the face  
'Cause that's where I'm at  
I almost fell flat out on the floor – he said  
"Wait a minute, that's not all, there's even more"

Ya get your mind back, your nerves back  
Your first heart attack back  
You get your pride back, get your life back

-Rascal Flatts

XXXX

Ponyboy's POV

"You actually paid for those hubcaps?" Two-Bit asked Steve incredulously as he climbed in the passenger seat of Two-Bit's truck.

"Yeah. I did. You can't steal ones like this," Steve said, proudly dusting off his new purchases.

Two-Bit stared at them doubtfully. "I don't know about that. They still look pretty shitty."

"Hey, shut up. I'm the mechanic here and I can tell the difference between good shit and bad shit. Maybe when you get a job you can let me in on whatever you become an expert in," Steve snapped huffily.

"Hopefully it's not shit." Two-Bit and I bust out laughing.

"Butt out kid," Steve snapped at me from the front seat of Two-Bit's pickup. Earlier in the day, Steve, Two-Bit and I had taken Two-Bit's pickup truck and drove down to the scummier side of Tulsa. Steve wanted to pick up some used auto parts for his car.

Since Steve was along, I had been relegated to the cargo bed of the truck as Steve declared it would be too 'cramped' up front with the three of us sitting up there.

Glaring at him, I rolled my eyes as they resumed their bickering. _Christ, they were like an old married couple._

Across the street was a gas station, so I figured I'd waste some time there while they bitched at each other. "I'm going to get a Coke," I yelled through the cab window and hopped out of the bed of the truck.

At the register, I heard the sputter of Two-Bit's truck as it roared out of its parking spot. My coke was forgotten as I ran outside; the door chimes jingling as I hurriedly shoved it open.

"Two-Bit, you son-of-a-bitch," I cursed, as I watched my friend drive away, leaving me at the station.

Guess they hadn't heard me leave. Or Steve finally decided to get rid of me once and for all. I smirked at the thought.

Groaning, I sat down on a bench. I was 20 minutes outside of town and stranded without a ride. Great. Darry would love this one. Shoot, he'd be as pissed as I was.

_I wonder how long they'll drive before they notice I'm gone_.

Knowing Two-Bit, I figured they would probably make it into town, notice I was gone and then haul ass back here to get me before Darry found out.

Good. I'd enjoy thinking about Two-Bit sweat.

As I strolled down the street, the sky was getting darker and darker. Within a few minutes the wind started howling and rain began to drench the road, piercing my skin.

Of course, I forgot my jacket.

I trotted a few more blocks and then ducked into the nearest building for relief. Screw the phone call for now.

"A little early for a drink there, sonny," a voice riddled with amusement told me as I shook off the rain.

Briefly, I surveyed where I was. A bar. "Oh no, it's raining and I…" I lamely trailed off.

"Well, while you're here sit down and take a load off." The speaker was a young man, probably in his 30's, stashed behind the bar counter. His easygoing face was covered with two-day beard growth. Reaching under the bar he popped the top to a beer and set it on the counter.

"C'mon kid. If you're old enough walk, you're old enough to drink."

I grinned at the faulty logic and dumped myself on the barstool. "I'm not sure my brother's would agree with you, that's a dangerous philosophy."

"That's the beauty of it. Even if you don't believe it, it still makes people think you're dangerous. Give 'em something to think about." The man wiped down the bar with a rag, leaving streaks of water and soap behind. "Tommy Bell. Owner and slave of this joint." He flung the rag in the sink.

"Ponyboy Curtis, laugh if you must."

He shook my hand and whistled long and slow. "That's a doozy. Although, I must say it's not the worst name I've heard in my life. My cousin's first name is Tinker, last name Bell."

I grimaced. "Yeah, that is pretty bad." Ignoring my conscience, I took a drink of the beer and studied the bar. It was dark, cozy and smoky. Booths, tables, pool tables and dart boards filled up most of the small space.

"So, what you doing in this neck of the woods?"

"Waiting for my friends to remember they left me at the gas station."

Tommy shot me a wry smirk. "Don't you just hate that?"

A loud noise from the back made me turn around. "Shoot," Tommy said, running his hands through his shaggy brown hair. "I gotta take care of this." He darted off to grab a swaying man, holding a lighter. "Joey, my man," Tommy chuckled, "you can't smoke _that_ in here…"

The rain kept coming down in sheets and I sneezed, thinking about how Darry was going to kill me if I came down with a cold. A spiral notebook and some loose papers behind the bar caught by eye. Craning my neck to check them out, I saw they were some financial tallies.

"So am I broke yet?" Tommy asked, coming up behind me.

I jumped. "Oh, I'm sorry…I was just…being nosy," I finished with embarrassment.

"Well you know what that means," Tommy said moseying back behind the counter. "I'll have to kill you now."

"You wouldn't be the first one who's tried," I said thinking of Bob, Jimmy and the Vietnam gooks.

Tommy raised an eyebrow and slid the papers over to me. "You seem like a smart kid. What do you think of this mess?"

Quickly, I scanned the chicken scratch, wincing at the mistakes and mismanagement. I was only 15 but I knew this guy didn't have a clue about organization. Glancing up, I shot Tommy a doubtful look.

He scratched his head and laughed bashfully. "As you can tell, I've never been any good with numbers. Where'd I go wrong?""

"Well, you should have this column for debit…and make one for credits…" I briefly explained the situation for him and he nodded along eagerly.

Impressed, he tapped a pencil against the counter. Then he leaned back and looked at me with a knowing smile. "How'd you like a job? Keeping track of my numbers? I barely have enough time or the smarts to do it myself."

"You're giving me a job, just like that?" I asked uncertainly.

"Sure it is. I've been looking for a while and you just walked right in off the street." Tommy stopped abruptly and eyed me curiously. "I'm not one for rules or anything, especially since I just gave you a drink, but what about school?"

"Oh, I can work on the weekends or in the afternoons," I explained easily.

Tommy slapped his hands on the counter. "Great! You can start this weekend." A loud noise exploded in our ears and the bar went dark.

"Damn power," Tommy complained. "Every time a storm comes 'round these parts…" He threw a flashlight into my hands and took one for himself, clicking it on. "I'll be right back…" He disappeared outside.

Sitting alone in the dark, my nightmares threatened to revive themselves. I shut my eyes quickly, against the shadowy figures. "C'mon…" I whispered. Unconsciously, my hand crept up to hold my dog tags around my neck. I could almost feel the heat of the jungle, hear the screams, see the blood…

WHAM!

Frightened, I jumped off my stool rapidly, knocking my beer over on the counter with the flashlight.

The power had restarted itself and Tommy came bounding in. "Shitty electrical wiring." He looked at me closely. "Looking kinda peaked there, son."

"It's nothing. I'd better get going."

"I'd give you a ride, but I gotta tend to the drunks," Tommy explained happily.

"Sure. No problem," I waved him off, in a hurry to get out of there.

"Don't forget to bring your calculator," he called out to me as I left.

Fortunately for me, the rain had stopped as I booked it down the road. Shaken by my recent flashbacks, I lit a smoke to calm my nerves and began to think about the new situation I had stumbled upon.

_Boy, random things sure did happen to me. _

Sure, I accepted a spur of the moment job. Sure, Darry would give me hell. But anything that got me out of the house and kept my mind off of my problems couldn't be that bad. Could it?

XXXX

Reviews please! Especially since I updated SO much this week!

Cheers!


	20. Chapter 20

Another update for everyone! Enjoy and leave reviews. I do love them.

Damn the calculator! ;)

Also...please let me know if I am dragging this out too long...everytime I make up my mind to end it, I get new ideas. But alas...

POV switcheroo...

XXXX

Darry's POV

Work had been unusually hectic today. A roofing contact had gone awry and I was being yelled at on both ends by the customer and by the boss.

Luckily for me, a storm blowing in from the south was creating trouble at our site, which meant I got to go home early. I stashed my tools and work gear in my locker, slamming it shut with a relieved bang.

Tucker Malone, a shift supervisor, came in and asked me, "Well didja hear?"

Not in the mood for small talk with a guy I knew to be a socy scumbag, I raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess. We're all getting raises?"

He gave me a disgusted look. "No."

Making a move to leave, Tucker blocked my way. I gave him a look. _Move it buddy_. I hated Tucker Malone. We got along simply for work's sake.

"Charlie Gooding's son killed himself."

Charlie Gooding co-owned the company I worked for. Charlie mostly crunched numbers as opposed to actually running the operation. Unlike my other boss, I liked Charlie. He was a soc who had made something of himself, but still remembered where he came from.

I stopped in my tracks, slack-jawed. "What happened?"

"The kid, Jeremy, was zany ever since he got back from 'Nam," Tucker said casually, relishing in delivering the juicy gossip. I froze, just like the night I had hit Ponyboy.

Actually, it felt like I had just been hit myself.

Tucker continued. "From what I heard he couldn't handle anything anymore. Stressed beyond all get out. Nightmares, flashbacks, freaky stuff like that. So yesterday, kid goes into his daddy's study, picks up his shotgun and BAM! puts a hole this big through his own head."

Tucker's thumbs and forefingers came together to form a 6-inch hole. He snorted. "Poor bastards who have to go over there. And from what I hear this isn't the first time it's happened." Then shrugging, he opened his own locker. "But what do I care? Better a greaser than me."

I felt rather than saw him smirk and I heard what was unsaid. 'Better a greaser than a Soc.'

_If it was his job to piss me off today, then job accomplished, Tucker._

In an instant, I had his shirt collar in my hands and was smashing his back up against the locker. "That was someone's son you asshole! Show some respect. I know it's hard, even for you. But give it a shot."

"Whoa Darrel," Tucker said frantically. "Just thought I'd tell you the news."

I squeezed harder. "Yeah, well try telling it without the dramatic adjustments." Then I dropped my hands in disgust and shoved him across the room.

Tucker rubbed his neck. "Christ, if I'd have known you'd get so bent out of shape I'd kept the news to myself."

I nearly backhanded the SOB. My hands balled into fists and he must have seen that for he hurriedly grabbed his gear and scooted out the room. Heaving with anger, I stared at the empty doorway. Then suddenly, I spun around taking my frustration out on locker #19 by pounding it with my fist. Three times was enough; I left the locker with a dent and my fist throbbing with pain.

As much as I would have liked to leave the dent in Tucker's face, I needed my job.

XXXX

Soda caught me in the act of drinking a beer and pacing around the kitchen.

"A drink?" His brown eyes shone with humor, a smile twitching on his lips; he knew I never drank. "And on a workday?" Soda put his hands on his side; mocking the way I usually lectured him and Ponyboy.

"Hardy har har," I told him, not in the mood for jokes after the day I had had.

"Darry? Is something wrong?" he asked quizzically, his eyes dropping to my swollen fist. Reluctantly, I told him what I had heard today from Tucker. I tried not to keep things from Sodapop. Especially, when it involved our brother.

In response to my news, Soda violently grabbed a beer from the fridge. He didn't drink it though, merely sat on the counter and held the sweaty bottle. He twisted it back and forth between his hands.

"So." Soda's voice was unnaturally high. "He just killed himself? Just like that?"

"I guess so. I don't know much more from what I told you." I watched my brother warily out of the corner of my eye as I began to pound around the kitchen searching for dinner. It was Soda's turn tonight, but he didn't look up to it at the moment; the food might actually come out _normal_.

"Darry…that kid kinda sounds like Ponyboy…with the nightmares…" Soda began in a halting voice.

"No. He'd never do that." I pushed that thought from my mind instantly. I couldn't afford to even go there.

Soda spoke intently, his voice calm and steady now. "Darry he wants to drop out of school. He wants to go to California. I don't know what he's going to do anymore."

I threw some leftovers in the trash with force. "I can tell you one thing. He's going back to school. I'm not having two brothers who are dropouts."

Soda winced and I winced too. _Shit_. I shouldn't have said that. Sodapop knew he was a dropout and that was fine with him. But he didn't like thinking he had disappointed me.

Trying to scrape up a meek apology I said gruffly, "Sorry Soda. You know what I mean."

Soda did. He flashed me a smile to accept my apology flipped his bottle cap off the beer. He tossed it in the air and caught it. "Sure do. Pone's smarter than the both of us."

A draft of wind entered the kitchen as the front door slammed shut. Ponyboy stomped in the house. He said nothing even though Soda and I both greeted him with _hellos_.

I shrugged and threw some bacon in a frying pan. Breakfast for dinner. "Get me some eggs, will ya?" I asked Soda who slid off the counter. "Ponyboy, clean up for dinner," I called out.

Another draft of wind entered the house as the front door swung open and Ponyboy was quickly followed by Steve and Two-Bit.

"Kid, I'm really sorry," Two-Bit said in a pleading tone.

Frowning, I came out of the kitchen, spatula in hand, Soda behind me. Two-Bit sounding guilty was never a good sign. The three of them stood in the living room; Pony drenched to the bone and Steve and Two-Bit frowning.

Two-Bit continued. "I didn't know you left-"

"You really should have told us," Steve interjected angrily.

"I did tell you!" Ponyboy exclaimed furiously. "Only you must not have heard me through all your bickering."

Steve ignored him. "Hey it's not our fault you didn't wait on us to come back and get you." Two-Bit rubbed his eyes wearily, as if Steve was not helping the situation at all.

"What's going on?" I asked suspiciously. The three of them whipped around surprised; they hadn't even realized Soda and I were there.

Ponyboy, slightly annoyed, glowered at Two-Bit. Now, I really wanted to know what was going on. Ponyboy was Two-Bit's staunchest defender; if Ponyboy was mad then Two-Bit must have pulled a whopper.

"Why don't you ask Magellan, over there," he said, wiping rain from his flushed face.

"Pone, catch." Soda grabbed a towel and tossed it on Ponyboy's face, hoping to elicit some sort of smile. Pony merely stared stonily at his friends.

Two-Bit sighed. "We drove down into Taylorsville to get Steve's hubcaps. I guess we didn't realize Ponyboy wasn't in the back of the pickup and _we-kinda-left-him-there_." This last part was said in hurried slur.

"You what?" I asked in disbelief. Steve looked at Soda quickly who didn't know what to make of this.

"Tell him how long it took you two to notice I was gone," Ponyboy commanded.

"We didn't notice he was gone until we pulled into the driveway. Of your house." Two-Bit stared at floor with awkwardness. Steve choked out a soft laugh.

"Pone, how _did_ you get home?" I asked him warily.

His annoyance dissipated for a second as he grinned goofily at me. "I ran."

"For twenty minutes?" Sodapop asked shocked. "Why didn't you wait? It's dark out and cold…"

I sighed and moved over to my wet brother and began toweling his hair off, since it looked like he wasn't going to do it himself.

"I had to get home somehow, since these two took their sweet time. 'Sides, I didn't even know if they'd show." Ponyboy tried to squirm away from me, but I held him still.

"Of course we'd show," Two-Bit said emphatically at the exact same time Steve said, "As we drove back here the second time, we finally saw him running along the side of the road."

"And then you tried to run me off of it!" Ponyboy gestured to his muddy pants and sneakers.

"Kid, I'm telling you, we were trying to get your attention. Get you in the truck," Two-Bit moaned.

"By swerving into me?" Ponyboy asked suspiciously. His head dipped and a hint of a smile appeared on his face.

Biting my lip, I tried to keep a straight face, suddenly realizing Ponyboy was guilting Two-Bit into learning a lesson. Pony may have been really pissed when he had arrived home, but now was having more fun with this new tactic.

"Grow up," Steve told Ponyboy. Then he turned to Soda. "Your brother's a real genius. If he gets pneumonia and catches his death of cold, you'll know who to blame." He pointed at Ponyboy.

Soda's eyes narrowed, Ponyboy rolled his eyes and I shook my head as Steve dug himself in a deeper hole. That wasn't the right thing to say to Soda, especially after our conversation tonight.

Soda's mouth opened and whatever was to come out next, it probably wasn't going to be pretty. Instead, Two-Bit spoke up. "Ponyboy, I am really, really sorry. I swear, Scout's honor, I'll never-"

Ponyboy couldn't help himself. A wide grin appeared on his face and his green eyes twinkled. Suddenly he burst out in wild laughter.

Steve edged away from him, like he'd lost his marbles. Only, Two-Bit got it. "Wait. All that…that big deal you made…you were just busting my chops?"

Ponyboy clutched his side, his laughter subsiding into sneezes, which Soda immediately tensed at. Steve's shoulders drooped and he dared a quick glance at his best friend, realizing his mistake at what he had said a few moments before. "I still can't believe you left me there," Ponyboy half-sneezed, half-laughed. "But I wasn't _that_ mad."

Staring at Pony closely, I frowned. I almost wanted to touch his forehead, check for a fever. He was more energetic than I had ever seen him; he hadn't laughed this much since he got back from the war. Soda was also staring at him apprehensively.

Impressed, Two-Bit pulled at his chin. "Christ. I nearly had a heart attack when we realized you weren't there. I thought you had fallen out of the truck."

"If he had fallen off that truck you'd have a lot more explaining to do around here." I spoke up seriously, wanting to let him know that despite the laughter I was not amused with the situation. Two-Bit grimaced, shooting me an apologetic glance; once again he'd barely got off the hook.

"Say, is someone burning something?" Steve asked, wrinkling his nose.

"The bacon." I darted into the kitchen. Maybe I would have had better luck letting Soda cook dinner after all.

Pony followed me, sneezing all the way. "Get out of those clothes. Now," I told him.

Spacing me out, he sat down at the table. "At least one good thing came out of the day. I got a job," he announced suddenly. It was like he was saying _Ta Da_.

"Doing what?"

"Putting my math skills to use." At my mystified face he continued, "Keeping track of financial statements."

To any other 15-year old I would have said_: Now what do you know about finances_? But I knew Pony did.

Dinner was ruined. Sighing, I tossed the bacon, pan and all into the sink and said, "Pony, I thought we discussed this. You don't _need_ a job."

"Actually I do. I'm going nuts around here."

"You're still going back to school when it starts. I mean it."

"Fine, fine," he agreed. But I knew better. The look on his face said: _we'll fight about it when the time comes. _

Well if he wanted to play it that way, it was fine with me, but I definitely _would_ fight about it when the time rolled around. I was not backing down from this.

Tonight, however, was not the night for it. Ponyboy was happy for once and if having a job would keep him that way…well let him have it.

XXXX

Enjoy! And leave reviews!


	21. Chapter 21

A long chapter for you all! And it's humorous and serious. C'mon give me the kudos and reviews. Unless it's pure crap. Then please don't stone me.

I hope you all like. (Pardon any typos).

Thanks!

XXXX

Don't worry about me, I'm gonna make it alright  
Got my enemies crossed out in my sight  
I take a bad situation gonna make it right  
In the shadows of darkness I stand in the light

You see it's our style to keep it true  
I've had a bad year, a lot to go through  
I've been knocked out, beat down, black and blue

-Rancid

XXXX

Pony's POV

Monday, Thursday and Friday were the days I worked at Tommy's bar: Shooter's. My hours varied, but usually noon until 4 did the trick. Two weeks had passed with Darry –and pretty much everyone- unaware of where I was actually working. I told them I was working in diner.

Although, I knew sooner or later they'd find out. If there was one thing Dallas Winston had taught me, it was that you always got caught. But I didn't really care. I almost wanted Darry to catch me, just so that he would yell at me. It wouldn't be fun, but it would prove to myself that no matter how much things had changed they were still the same.

I leaned back in the chair in Tommy's cushy office. Hunched over the table, I scribbled out a note I had made in the margins of the ledger. I glanced at the wall clock. 6 pm.

"Sonny, I always know you're working hard when I see that tongue sticking out of the side of your mouth," Tommy quipped, coming into the room.

"Well maybe if you didn't have so many mistakes I wouldn't be working overtime," I laughed easily. "Here," I said making one last correction and snapping the book shut. "I'm done."

"Thank the gods. C'mon. Let me buy you a drink." Tommy ushered me out of his office, crossing the landing that looked down over the bar and walking down the rickety stairs.

"So what'll it be?" Tommy stood behind the bar beaming.

He was the owner and yet he always worked the bar. "It makes me a better person," he had told me. And I supposed that was true. You saw people at their worst and either you joined them, helped them or raised yourself above them.

Right now, I felt like joining them. It had been a long week. "Beer, please."

Tommy laughed. "That's what gives away your age. You're too goddamned polite. But don't apologize on my account. Your daddy taught you right."

I nodded slowly. Tommy polished a glass and inspected it for blemishes. "What _do_ your folks think of you working here?"

"My folks are dead. My brothers-my guardians- they don't know."

Tommy considered something and set a beer and shot glass in front of me. He filled the chaser with clear liquid. "I'm a good bartender," he began slowly, studying me as I took the shot, "because I know who to serve and who not to serve. You may be young, but you have your wits about you."

"Wow. Can I get that in writing so I could show my older brother?" Grimacing slightly from the taste of vodka, I chased it with my beer.

I did know what Tommy meant. I shouldn't be drinking because of my age. But Tommy didn't give a hang about rules; I could drink because I could handle it. When you did it right, it was a fun time.

I may not always handle it in the best ways; I'd still go over my limit and be hung over once in a while, but I wouldn't pass out in the street or go drag racing.

Besides, I'd seen what booze did to you if you weren't smart. Johnny's parents were a prime example.

"It makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside doesn't it?" Tommy asked me as I took another shot. It was a bad habit that I picked up in Vietnam and I didn't want to leave behind; too many good memories with Shep and Crock.

Tommy bolted to the end of the bar to help out a few couples that had just entered the bar.

I'd stay for one more beer and then catch the bus from Taylorsville to Tulsa.

XXXX

At home, I caught the ringing phone up as I entered the house. "What?"

"Ponyboy Curtis," Darry barked. "How many times have I told you not to answer the phone like some juvenile delinquent hood?"

I chewed my lip to stop the laughter that wanted to burst out of me. Boy, those drinks had been stiff. I stared at the floor as it spun in a pleasant circle.

"Sorry," I mumbled, wincing at my slurred words.

"I'm at the hospital."

Alert, I straightened up and tried to focus. "What happened?"

Darry sighed, exhausted but not worried. "There was a rumble tonight. Tim Shepard got it going and well…" he trailed off, knowing I got the picture. "Soda and Steve busted their hands open. Soda needs stitches."

"I'll come down," I said hanging up the phone briskly and loping out of the house. There was another bus to catch.

XXXX

"Taking the stairs was supposed to be a good thing," I wheezed to myself. The exercise should have cleared the alcohol out of my system, but judging by the way I stumbled up the stairs, I had my doubts.

As I reached the fifth floor, I kicked the door open and tripped. I spilled out from the stairwell into the main hall. Nurses and doctors glanced down at me on all fours. "Hi," I said lamely.

Down the hall came a cheerful voice, "Hey, hey, hey." As I pulled myself up Two-Bit slapped me on the back. He didn't look too bad; he was beaming even with a black eye.

"Nice of you to make it-" he drew back from me. "Christ, you smell like rubbing alcohol." He sniffed. "Is that vodka?"

"Only the best. How's Soda?" I eagerly asked and grabbed his shoulder.

"He's right as rain, which is more than I can say for you." Two-Bit guided me down the hall, the squares of green tile speeding by me in one blur. He dumped me in a hard, cold chair outside of an exam room. "Listen Pone, you'd best stay out here for now. At least until I can scare up some gum." He covered his mouth, trying to keep the smile off of it. "Darry's gonna cream you if he sees you like this."

"Two-Bit," I grinned seriously. "You're too good to me. You really are."

He rolled his eyes. "Right, right. Well, at least I know you're a happy drunk. Now sit here and stay. Don't move. Don't speak." I saluted him as he ran in search of the gift shop.

A few minutes went by as I twiddled my thumbs and wished badly for a smoke. I was just about to take a walk through the hospital when Darry came out of the exam room. "They're stitching him up," he briefed me.

I nodded mutely. Two-Bit _had_ told me not to speak.

"So Pone, how was work?" Darry smiled lightly and paced the hall.

Again, I shrugged.

Darry's brow furrowed in annoyed confusion. "What on earth is wrong with you?"

Two-Bit half-ran, half-walked up to us. Then he did the only thing that would take Darry's attention off of me. "Darry, is that a social worker?" he asked and as Darry spun around, Two-Bit slid next to me, popped some gum in my mouth and spritzed me with a stolen bottle of perfume.

"That was cruel," I whispered to Two-Bit.

"Try and not say anything idiotic," Two-Bit hissed back.

"I don't see one," Darry said with a stricken face, coming back to us. Then he wrinkled his nose with disgust and searched the area. "Oh god, what smells like a floral arrangement?" Darry couldn't be distracted for long though, because he turned back to me. "What's going on with you?"

I knew I had a goofy grin plastered on my face and Two-bit looked all wrong wearing an angelic smile. "Whaddya say, whaddya know Darry? For once it's not me in here," I garbled.

Two-bit groaned and slid lower in his plastic chair, "Keep talking, Pone."

I could see Darry trying to work out an explanation in his head for my strange behavior. His blue eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth, only to be cut off by the nurse saying, "Mr. Curtis, we need you to fill out the discharge paperwork."

Two-Bit prodded me into Soda's exam room. "Get your ass in here." He shoved me roughly and I flopped into the room. Soda was sitting on the examination table and Steve was lounging against the window.

"How're you doing Sodapop?" I asked him, trying to pay attention to what was happening in front of me. All I really wanted to do was laugh and laugh. And I had no clue why. "You're not hurt too bad?" I hugged him lightly and backed away.

"Glory no!" Soda scoffed. A fight always got him hyped up. He had a few stitches on his right knuckles and some on the back of his head where a soc had cracked him with a beer bottle. His black eye was turning an ugly purple.

"_We_ sure gave it to them socs good," Steve said, emphasizing the _we_.

As tipsy as I was, I knew Steve was rubbing it in my face that I hadn't been there. It bothered me that I hadn't even been let in on it; Darry would try and spin it as a 'spur of the moment' rumble. But there was no way Soda and Darry would have let me fight and that got to me.

Swaggering up to us, Steve stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes danced from me to Two-Bit. Instantly, he knew I had been drinking. A covert conversation took place between the two of them. "Really?" he asked Two-Bit, amusement heavy in his voice.

"Oh yeah," Two-Bit sighed. "Big time."

Steve clucked his tongue. "Good thing we're in a hospital, because Darry's gonna-"

"Steve, blow it out your ass," I told him happily.

Two-Bit and I howled with hilarity as Steve glared at me. Soda, trying to keep the peace, hopped off the table, his body racking with his held in laughter.

"Stevie," he asked proudly, "how do I look?"

"Like you've been in a war," he replied, smiling cockily.

"You know," I put in; blissfully unaware of what I was saying. "I've been in a war." Discounting Soda's hurt glance I continued. "I have. And let me tell yoooouuu, it's not all that it's cracked up to be."

Two-Bit smacked his palm into his head. "Ponyboy. Shut up," he warned.

"No, no, no," I said waving him away. "It's fine, it's fine. I _thought_ being beaten up by socs hurt. But boy, being smacked around by a coupla gooks does nothing for your frame of mind. They do things to you with a pair of pliers and bamboo shoots that I don't even want to mention." I tilted my head thoughtfully. "Or so I've heard."

Soda, shocked, sagged weakly back against the door. "I cannot believe you just said that."

Steve, shaking his head, glanced at me somewhat impressed. "I can."

"We all set here?" Darry asked appearing in the doorway, papers in hand.

"I think so," I announced brightly. "Now if I could just get some goddamn aspirin, I'd be mighty happy."

Their faces were priceless. Darry stared at me with an open mouth. Steve coughed into his hand; a glimmer of a smile playing on his face and Soda looked like he wanted to bawl. Before anyone could say anything – and Darry definitely looked ready to say something, his face a cloudy mess – I swayed out the door, followed closely by Two-Bit.

"You're driving home with me," Two-Bit told me in my ear, hurrying me along as Darry, Soda and Steve followed us. "Damn. I think I was the only one amused by that scene."

"Shoot, I'm still amused." For the first time in a long while, I felt good.

XXXX

Ok, this was a long chapter, so please leave reviews!

Peace&Love


	22. Chapter 22

XXXX

You held me down, I'm at my lowest boiling point

Come help me out, I need to get me out of this joint

Come on let's bounce, counting on you to turn me around

Instead of clowning around, let's look for some common ground

…times get a little crazy

I've been gettin' a little lazy, waitin' on you to come save me

I can see that you're angry by the way that you treat me

Hopefully you don't leave me, wanted you with me…

-Gwen Stefani

XXXX

Ponyboy's POV

"Let me give you a tip," Two-Bit said as we pulled alongside the curb. "Don't talk. Just let him yell. Because, as I see him coming this way, oh yes, he will be yelling."

"Soooo, you're telling me that he knows?" I smirked, leaning my head against the window of his truck.

"Darry'd have to be deaf, dumb and blind not to figure that out." In the darkness Two-Bit and I grinned at each other, knowing I was in trouble but finding it funny.

Instantly, the passenger door I was resting back against was ripped open and I nearly fell out to the cement road. Two-bit's hand darted out, grabbing my t-shirt to hold me in the pick-up, as Darry caught me by the elbow and hauled me up.

"Christ. Easy." Two-Bit mumbled under his breath and shot me a sympathetic look.

Darry, gambling on his and Two-Bit's friendship said, "Two-Bit, I'm only going to ask you once. Did you get him drunk?"

Two-Bit could have gotten real pissed. Instead, he shook his head and looked Darry straight in the eye. "No. Of course not."

"Ok," Darry nodded in relief. "I just had to ask."

Two-Bit said a brief and awkward goodbye and pulled out. While Steve and Sodapop lingered on the porch, Darry and I figured it was a good enough time as any to have a shouting match in the middle of our street.

And so began the knock down, drag out fight between Darry and me. After two years of passive existence, we finally broke our promise to Sodapop.

"Ponyboy Curtis," my brother's lethal voice asked, "don't try and lie to me. Did you come to that hospital drunk?"

_Yep. And still am. _

"Darry, 'drunk's' such a harsh word. I prefer intoxicated." Grinning, I stuck my hands in my pockets and tried to walk a straight line on the curb. The booze was making me feel kinda funky; I had no worries, no troubles.

Glancing over at Soda, I saw that he and Steve were having a rather animated conversation themselves. "Just let them have it out," Steve was telling Soda.

"My god, they're going to kill each other," Soda moaned.

"Where did you get it? The alcohol?" My attention came back to Darry.

"Darry relax. Two-Bit didn't give it to me. I got it at a bar. _Obviously_."

"Pony, you had better watch your mouth," Darry warned. I had never seen his face so furious. His lips were pulled into a straight, taut line. He threaded his hands through his brown hair. "Whoever gave it to you, I'm gonna murder them."

"It's not your problem. I can handle it."

"Oh, but it is my problem. When you wind up in jail or at the bottom of a lake, it really will be my problem."

"I was just having some fun," I mumbled sullenly. _Talk about killing the mood. _"Besides it was just a few drinks."

Flabbergasted, Darry raised his hands in the air. "Just a few-? Pony, sometimes I wonder what it's going to take to get it into your thick skull that you're not invincible." He was yelling at me now. Really yelling.

"Darry!" Soda cautioned. Darry took a quick look back at Soda and motioned him to stay put. "This is bullshit," Soda muttered, definitely angry. Although I wasn't sure if it was with me, Darry or Steve. All three of us seemed to have pissed him off real good tonight.

"I know that!" I exclaimed.

Infuriated, his jaw dropped. "Exactly! Then, why are you not smarter than this? Why do you-"

A few lights in neighboring houses flicked on. Darry's eyes darted around as he suddenly realized we were causing a scene he didn't really want to afford. "Get your ass in the house now. And believe me you won't be leaving it for a long time," his deep voice rumbled.

There. I had what I wanted. Darry was mad. Boy, oh boy, was he pissed; I don't think I had ever seen him this mad.

At that moment I was hit with a serene sensation. Things _were_ still the same. Darry was going to do his job and scream at me until he was blue in the face, no matter how much I fought with him, no matter how angry I with at him.

I smiled ready to make peace, but Darry taking my smile wrong, snapped, "Goddammit Ponyboy! This isn't funny! I hate what this war has done to you. You gotta snap out of it. Now."

Quickly, I opened my mouth to apologize, tell him I was sorry, that he was right and I was wrong, but I had antagonized him too far. Darry's hand jerked out and ripped the dog tags from my neck. I jumped back, shocked into rudely remembering the exact same act from the gook who had taken me hostage back in Vietnam.

_The Boss…_

Fear washed over me and my surroundings began to blur in and out of focus. I began to break out in a sweat despite the chilly night wind. Thunder rumbled behind us and rain began to spatter the ground.

_The sky is dying_, I thought dizzily, turning my face up toward the rain.

Before he realized it, Darry tossed my tags into the street, where they landed on the curb grate and clattered down into the sewer. In the night, my eyes grew large and my hands trembled up to my neck where the tags had lain. Shaken, we stared at each other, Darry looking at his empty hand in disbelief, me staring in horror at where they had fallen.

It was as if everything I knew and had worked for had literally just fallen down the drain.

The night was no longer amusing.

"Darry," I tried to speak calmly, but my voice was cracking and I knew my face was about to. "It would have hurt a lot less if you had just slapped me."

A pained look crept across his face but his voice was even as he said, "Pony, get your act together, shape up, because in a few months you're going back to school."

Ignoring him, I turned on my heel and marched to the house. I needed to get away now because I no longer felt like laughing. Plain and simple, I felt like crying.

Soda, reeking of smoke – he had gone through half a pack since Darry and I began fighting – met us in the middle of the yard, looking ready to slap both of us back into our senses. Heatedly he spat out, "Are you two happy now? Because now the whole world knows how you feel about each other."

Steve stood awkwardly off to the side, like a ref who really didn't want to interfere, but would if need be.

Brushing off Soda, Darry, not through lecturing me, lapsed onto another topic. "Ponyboy," he asked defensively, "I bet you wouldn't be laughing if a social worker _had_ been at the hospital tonight."

Reaching the porch I stopped and spun around, causing Darry to nearly crash into me.

_Oh no, he wasn't going to make himself feel better by playing that card._

Wanting to hurt him just as much as he had hurt me, I blurted out furiously, "You know what? Then I guess your problem with me would have been solved."

I didn't mean it of course, but there was a certain smug satisfaction at seeing Darry pale. I never glanced at Soda because I couldn't handle his reaction.

I escaped to the bedroom, a sick feeling building in my stomach at how out of hand the night had got. Tired and disgusted, I dropped onto the bed and fell into a fitful sleep.

XXXX

Alrighty, the fight has been had.

Leave me comments and reviews please! Please, please!

Thanks for such the great ones on the last chapter! I really appreciated them and wanted to write this chapter ASAP.

Peace&Love


	23. Chapter 23

Alrighty everyone. I may end this story today. I already know the ending…it's weird…but I feel it fits the story. A few more chapters to go though…so we'll see. I could keep writing, but I really feel it needs to be tied up instead of going onto new tangents.

However, I may write another one…a continuance if enough people would like it. Just let me know…and also any ideas if you have them. Other than that…please leave reviews and let me know what you think!

XXXX

I can't confront you

I never could do

That which might hurt you

So try and be cool

When I say

This way is a waterslide away from me

That takes you further every day

So be cool

Say it ain't so

-Weezer

XXXX

Ponyboy's POV

_I was drowning. I was going to die. In a small lake of water I was drowning. My head disappeared underneath the surface and no matter how hard I dogpaddled I still sank. I tilted my face up beneath the water to see a small yellow light disappearing. With open eyes I watched it fade away until I was surrounded by inky blackness. My feet stopped moving, the sneakers I wore dangling limply in the water. Something bobbed at the surface. Grey, metal dog tags. My hand stretched out toward them but they disappeared before my fingers could graze them._

_And then I took a breath. I needed to breathe. Water filled my mouth, my lungs and then I was…_

…coughing. I awoke on the couch, jerking up on my side. My hands fluttered to my throat as I coughed in long, dry hacks. Clutching my burning throat, I willed away the feeling of water in my lungs. As it subsided, I rolled over on my back and stared at the crackled ceiling. "Damn," I muttered.

Two-Bit's face appeared over me. I shut my eyes briefly and then opened them again. "What?" I snapped irritably. He was looking at me strangely.

I sat up, perching on the edge of the couch. "Was I hollerin'?" I ran a hand through my sweaty hair.

"No. Just talking." He sat down next to me, beer in his hand. "You were saying some weird things, kid. Not to mention coughing up a storm. I thought you were drowning or something."

"I was," I said bluntly.

Taking a sip of beer, he thought on it and said, "Well, good to have you back." Examining his palms, he said nonchalantly, "I heard last night was rough."

"Word must get around," I quipped.

"Well from what Steve tells me, the whole neighborhood knows."

"You really should have been there. It was one damn good show," I said bitterly. "Lost my dog tags."

Two-Bit exhaled painfully. "Yeah. I heard about _that_ from Soda. He was still yelling at Darry this morning about it."

"Forget it," I muttered bitterly. "They washed away with the rain." This morning, as soon as the sun had come up I had been down on my stomach digging around in that drain. No such luck. When I had come back into the house I had locked myself in the bathroom until Darry and Soda had left. I had nothing to say to Darry and didn't want to face Sodapop.

Then, I had called Tommy and told him that I probably wouldn't be in for a while. I could have ignored Darry about being house bound and left anyways, but I didn't have the energy.

Monotonously, I gave Tommy a brief explanation of last night and he clucked his tongue.

"Those are the pits, sonny," he had sympathized. "But you know, you don't have to be here to do the books. I know someone who lives on that end of town, I'll just have him drop them off at the end of every week and pick them up for me. No sweat, you'll be back when you can."

After saying appreciative thanks, I threw a blanket over my head and slept on the couch until evening had rolled around.

"Where is everyone?" I asked Two-Bit glancing at my wrist even though I wasn't wearing a watch.

"Darry's still at work. Steve and Soda went to grab some food. They're gonna bring you some back."

Shaking my head, I stared out blankly in front of me. "It doesn't matter."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Two-Bit grimace. "Pone, you were doing so well-"

He cut off as Steve and Soda entered, carrying two pizzas. Soda had his balanced on the top of his head. "Hey, you're up," he said, smiling tentatively.

Feebly, I smiled back but then I couldn't help it. The choking, drowning feeling crept upon me again and I burst into a spasm of coughing, doubling over in my seat.

Soda watched me with trepidation and locked eyes with Two-bit, who shrugged and then leapt up exclaiming, "Think I'll get an early start on tonight's festivities." He rubbed his belly with relish.

"Come eat, kid," Steve entreated, setting the pizzas on the kitchen table. I rolled my eyes. I must be a sorry sight to be getting pity from Steve Randle.

Ignoring them, I twisted around and snapped open the window blinds. It was that still calm of the afternoon, the house cozy, the sun filtering in through the windowpanes. The yellow sky was growing dusky, almost an angry purple-blue. Stormy weather was coming.

The air in the house had an odd quality, semi-still, stifled. That same feeling had hit me back in Windrixville with Johnny. Almost greedily, I tried to remember the poem I had quoted for him, the one by Robert Frost. A few seconds went by and then I stopped breathing again. My mind grew fuzzy as I realized I couldn't recall the words.

I had forgotten.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I again sat back against the couch, feeling as if my surroundings were being pulled away from me in slow motion. Soda, who had left Steve and Two-Bit to wolf down pizza, came and sat next to me. "It's going to rain," Soda said quietly, his brown eyes searching my panicked face.

"No. It's going to pour," I told him bleakly.

XXXX

Our room was a disaster zone. I had torn it apart trying to find that book with the poem. Books were tossed down from my bookshelf, contents from underneath the bed pulled out in a mad frenzy. Frustrated, I ran my hand through my hair; after 2 hours in there it was beginning to look hopeless.

From my room, I heard Darry arrive home. "Where's Ponyboy?"

Silence. And then Soda spoke up, almost accusingly. "In his room. He's been in there the whole day, digging around for something."

Footsteps halted near my door. "Pone?" From the hard knock, it was Darry. I was up on a stack of books, trying to grope blindly into the top of our closet. Suddenly, the bottom book slipped out of order and I crashed to the floor, whatever I had been grabbing at coming down with me.

Immediately, the door tried to burst open, but was stopped by the mess I had piled up against it. Darry stuck his head in. "Are you alright?" he asked, shouldering his way in.

"Please. Enter," I said dryly, pulling myself up.

Hands on his hips, Darry sighed sadly. "What're you doing?"

"Looking for something," I snapped. Then almost stricken, I plunged into another pile. "I gotta find it, I just have to. Because I don't remember and that's worse than anything."

Slowly, cautiously, Darry approached me. "Can I help?

"No. You wouldn't understand. It was a poem…I told it to Johnny…" Then I sat back on my heels and looked up at him. "Can you just leave? Please."

"I have something for you." Darry reached into his pocket and pulled out my dog tags. The chain was broke but he had them. He dropped them into my outstretched palm. "I got them last night. I'm sorry, Ponyboy," he told me briskly.

"You shouldn't have done that," I lectured softly.

"I know," he exhaled loudly. "And you shouldn't have been drinking." I said nothing just punched my palms against my eyes. Darry sat down on the bed and watched me while I sat limply on the floor. "Things have been rough for you. And I know I haven't given you enough time."

I couldn't deal with apologies right now. Pale and shaking I scrabbled up. "I really have to find that book."

"Why don't you come eat?" Darry said, intently. "You'll make yourself sick."

"Give me a break," I muttered.

"Ponyboy, sit still for once and listen to me," Darry's voice boomed out commandingly. He grabbed my wrists and looked me firmly in the eyes.

"I have always known you were going to be the stubborn one. I found this out when I was twelve years old and mom volunteered me for babysitting duties." He chuckled to himself.

"Even then, mom must have known I'd need practice with you. One day -I remember - she told me 'make sure your brother does not go to bed hungry' and she left me alone with you and a plate of spaghetti. The first thing you did was cry when I held that fork up to your mouth. Eventually, it ended up on my football jersey that dad had bought me. And let me tell you, I was so angry with you. I was fighting with a six year old, when all I really wanted to do was play football." Darry's face clouded with embarrassment as he stared at the messy floor. "I wanted to leave you in that damn kitchen and let you starve."

I bit my lip, amazed at the gloomy stare on his face. It was odd to think that Darry still felt guilty nearly 10 years later.

Darry continued. "You were – and still are – so different than Sodapop. He was the easy one. Soda would have eaten dirt if I had told him to. You, you had to fight me on everything. And I do understand that. Shoot, when you're older I'll even admire it. But as of now, you're going to have to get used to the fact that you're my responsibility and I will _not_ get lazy, no matter how much you scream at me. I've felt that way ever since that day in the kitchen. Mom trusted me with you then and I know she still does."

I sat silently, shocked at such an honest admission from Darry. I grinned lightly at him as he ruffled my hair. "So what happened to the spaghetti?" I asked him curiously.

He burst out laughing, slapping his knee. "I ate it for you and told mom you had finished it. But when you came crying to her later that evening, she definitely knew."

"Busted," I told him.

"Oh yeah. Big time. But I learned my lesson," he eyed me meaningfully and stood up. "Clean this mess up and come get some dinner. Maybe tomorrow Soda can take you down to the bookstore so you can find that poem."

"Sure," I agreed in surprise as he walked toward the door.

"Oh, Ponyboy?" he asked, turning back around to shoot me his _Darry_-look. "You are still grounded. Big time."

XXXX

Leave reviews!


	24. Chapter 24

Alley: I totally knew that someone would be worried about the dream scenario. No worries, I'd never do that. It's way too cruel and no fun. ;)

There are a few more chapters…just thought I'd update again. Please leave reviews! Thanks!

XXXX

my foundation was rocked my tried and true way to deal was to vanish

my departures were old I stood in the room shaking in my boots

-Alanis Morissette

XXXX

A week of searching went by and I still could not find that poem. Needless to say I was discouraged. It was as if it were lost to me forever; the only other person who knew it was gone.

Darry had also re-enrolled me for school. "It's done," he had told me proudly. I said nothing, merely shot Soda a look of feigned horror. We both began chuckling, while Darry began to fret about the story we would spin to the school. I had no doubt that the night before school started he would have me up until all hours of the night rehearsing it.

I had never been so bored in my life. Darry definitely was sticking to his end of the bargain about me never leaving the house again.

"Darry," I whined as he came out of his bedroom that morning. "When will my days of servitude end?" I was leaning backwards off the couch, my feet up in the air against the wall, my head touching the ground. His brown work boots came to rest by my face.

"One week to go. You know that." Hovering around me, he lightly slapped my leg. "Get down from there. All the blood's going to rush to your head."

"Hey, I gotta do _something_."

"How about cooking dinner tonight then?"

"I guess I could manage that," I replied lazily. Then I swung my legs, somersaulting backwards onto the floor.

"You have way too much time on your hands," Soda told me rushing out from the shower.

"Try telling him that." I pointed at Darry exasperatedly.

XXXX

I had taken Darry's advice and cooked chicken and rice for dinner. Sitting down to eat, Soda began to dissect the date he had the other night to Darry. "I am never letting Steve set me up again," he complained. "If I were him I'd be worried about the kind of friends Evie keeps. She was crazy."

_Boy, I know a few of those too…_I thought wryly, my brain spinning to Regina Logan for some unknown reason.

Suddenly, I choked. And it wasn't on the food.

Ever since I had had that dream about drowning I would freeze up and choke on a regular basis. Out of the blue, my lungs would constrict and things would slow down and become foggy. And the worst part was it happened when I was _awake_.

And it looked like tonight was no exception.

My eyes snapped open in shock and I set my fork down with a clatter.

I was scared. Really, really scared. I couldn't get any air; my chest was on fire. I must have paled because Soda stopped laughing and said with amusement, "Sure, the chicken's a little dry, but it's edible."

"Pone?" Darry echoed curiously.

Bolting up, I sent the chair crashing to the floor with a loud thud. Panicked, I threw my hand to my throat, touching it frantically. Darry, seeing the universal symbol for choking, was by my side in a flash. He grabbed my shoulder and pounded me hard on the back.

He spun me around to face him and balked as I shook my head anxiously. Air still wouldn't come. Vaguely, I wondered if I was turning blue because Darry's face didn't look like he was doing too well at the moment.

"Soda," he called out, fear evident in his voice, "Call 911. Now!" If Darry was telling Sodapop to call the hospital then things must be going pretty badly.

"Shit!" Soda cussed, scrambling for the phone.

Spots began to appear in front of my eyes…and then I got relief. With a strangled gasp I finally took in air and fell to the ground coughing. Forgetting the phone call, Soda dropped to his knees beside me. "Pony," he commanded, taking my face in his shaky hands. "Try to breathe. Please honey, say something."

"Auntie Em, is that you?" I croaked out before breaking up into hysterical laughter which caused Soda to sit back on his heels and rub his temples.

Darry, worn out, dropped into his chair. "Ponyboy. Please try and chew your food next time," he told me, his face extremely pale.

XXXX

_Curiously I stared down into the water. This time I wasn't sinking, merely standing on top of a glassy lake. I was someplace far away. In the mountains._

"_Care to take the plunge?" I glanced back down into the water and suddenly was facing Dally. It was as if I were staring at a reflection only it wasn't of me. The bottom of his feet touched the soles of mine. _

"_No thanks," I said, looking back at the shore wistfully._

"_Why not? A little water never hurt anyone." _

"_Try telling that to someone who hasn't been nearly drowned." I scoffed._

"_Ah, that was a lifetime ago," Dallas discounted._

"_It can be good for the soul," Johnny spoke, walking up to me. "Cleansing." _

"_You know you're going to have to drown to find yourself," Dallas said confidently. _

"_Enough with the BS. You're not saying anything to me," I bit out with annoyance. _

_Johnny's dark eyes flashed. "It's not meant to be confusing. Water nearly ended your life two years ago. It can bring it back." _

_Tears of frustration filled my eyes. "So, you want me to drown?"_

_Dallas shrugged. "You'll have to drown sometime. Only this time, if it's not your choice, it'll be too late for anyone to save you."_

_Fearfully, I looked back down into the water, which was beginning to turn an inky black. "You're close." Johnny smiled at me. "Real close, Ponyboy." _

_As they faded out of sight, I wanted to ask Johnny about the poem but instead I began to sink into the murky lake. I let it take me, breathing in the watery blackness._

XXXX

More chapters coming soon…stay tuned. And leave reviews!

Peace&Love


	25. Chapter 25

Wow. Everyone thanks for the awesome reviews and suggestions. Much appreciated. And yes this story is wrapping up but there are a few more chapters coming…so it isn't done quite yet. I hope it's not getting too odd…hopefully you can pick out the underlying tones. A few of you smarties are on the right track! ;)

Well…leave me more reviews puh-lease!

Thanks everyone!

XXXX

XXXX

"I'm coming!" I yelled to the person who had just knocked on our front door. I set my pencil down and shut Tommy's ledger. Finished for the day.

As I swung open the door, I blinked against the bright sun. "Give me a break…

It was Regina Logan. She stood there, her wiry hair sticking out, a dreamy look plastered on her face. "So." Regina took off her glasses and eyed me contentedly. "You're here."

"Well, I do live here," I snapped at her and moved to shut the door. Regina stuck her foot out, blocking it. "What do you want?" I scowled.

"Did you get my present?" She smiled in honest wonder.

"Thanks but no thanks."

"I figured you wouldn't want it, but it was worth a shot." Her eyes rested on my dog tags; they lit up like flashbulbs. Protectively, I tucked them underneath my gray t-shirt. "Oh," she breathed. "Iknew _you_ were the brother." I stared at her in stony silence as her long fingers flicked out and touched my shoulder. "Take a walk with me."

I wanted to tell her where _she_ could take a walk, but something stopped me. "Fine," I said with hesitation, shutting the screen door behind me. As I stepped out of the house, I met Steve, Soda and Two-Bit coming up the walk. Two-Bit carried a six-pack and Soda a can of paint and a baseball.

I grinned at my mischievous brother; I didn't even want to know what they were planning. And from the looks of it, Steve didn't either.

"Soda, I'm going out for milk. Cover for me."

"Where're you going?" he asked with curious interest.

"What're you doing?" I shot back, looking pointedly at the paint and beer.

"You drive a hard bargain," he told me, smiling. "But hurry back. Darry's smart enough to know by now when I'm lying for you." He arched an eyebrow, staring at Regina, who I knew appeared slightly creepy with her frazzled hair and intense stare. She merely stared back at him impassively.

Steve snorted. "Which is usually 24/7."

"Uh, Pone…" Two-Bit began warily, knowing who Regina was. I widened my eyes ever so slightly, telling him to keep quiet.

I nodded at the beer. "Drink one for me."

Regina prodded me out of the yard. "Come on, child."

XXXX

Regina Logan took me to the church where Jimmy's funeral had been held. "I wanted to ask you something that I never got to ask my brother." Trance-like she stared at the pulpit. "Are you better?"

I stared at my hands uneasily. Was I? "I don't know. Sometimes I think so. But then I have…setbacks."

"Oh, I think you are," she spoke thoughtfully. Then her hand crept out and clutched mine fiercely. "You are still very sad. But you'll survive in the end."

Despite wanting to pull my hand away, I let it stay in her icy grip. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," I muttered. Suddenly upset, I met her gaze. "Why do you care anyways?"

Her hand slipped away. Regina sniffed and tugged at her hair. "Because I have to care about someone. I didn't care about Jimmy."

_But I'm not him! I wanted to scream at her._

"I have enough people who worry about me."

"You misunderstand me. I didn't say 'worry' I said 'care'. There is a difference. Sometimes you need someone to just _care_."

I paused, putting my resentment aside, and found I surprisingly agreed with her. If people were worried about you, then you worried about not screwing up, which in turn made things a million times worse.

_Exhibit A: Darry and Soda_, I thought wryly and wished I could smoke in the church.

Regina sniffled and put her sunglasses back on despite the darkness of the church.

"Do you come here to pray?" I asked, watching a couple and priest at the pulpit. The priest held their baby, murmuring a blessing.

"No. To think. It's peaceful."

_A little too peaceful_…I wanted to say but didn't.

The priest lowered the baby toward the pool of water. "What is he doing?" I asked with alarm. "They're going to drown him." The baby's cry echoed throughout the cavernous church.

Regina laughed, her chuckle mixing with the baby's wail. "Oh, it's just a baptism. A purification of the soul, if you will. Anyone can be baptized. That's the beauty of it. New beginnings are always possible, even for someone so young." Turning to me, she smiled sadly.

In amazement, I realized why I was afraid of her, why she unnerved me. She had Dallas's eyes.

She picked up a bible, spinning it in between her palms. "Whatever you think, it's not mystic bullshit. But you can't dismiss what you _know_." She tapped her temple, suddenly animated. "If it _feels_ right, it usually is. No matter what you see or hear."

"Wait," I put my hands up. "What are we talking about?" I was beginning to wonder if this chick had a few screws loose in her head. But then I had willingly come along, so what did that make me?

"Your life, I suppose," she responded with a shrug.

"I need to go," I told her.

"You're not blind and you're not stupid. You'll know what to do." Before I could make a mad run for the door she clutched my arm and let it go quickly. "Can we visit again?"

Feeling bad for her desperation, I agreed. Rushing, out of the church I clumsily lit a cigarette and tried to shake off the strong emotions that had overcame me.

Bitter from Regina's incessant needling, I stopped in my tracks and turned back around to evaluate the church. "Damn." I took a long puff and breathed in the smoke that I had been craving for the longest time.

And then I remembered. Sickened, I tossed the stub in the gutter and began the walk home.

Cigarettes and churches don't exactly mix.

XXXX

Reviews s'il vous plait!

Merci beaucoup! ;)


	26. Chapter 26

XXXX

And love dares you, to care for people on the edge of the night  
And love dares you, to change our way of caring about ourselves  
This is our last dance, this is our last dance  
This is ourselves, under pressure  
Under pressure, pressure

-Queen

XXXX

Ponyboy's POV

The walk home had given me time to think. And thanks to Regina Logan and my loony nightmares I now had one hell of a solution to my problems.

I found Steve on the front porch, smoking. "Your big brother sure can yell," he said good-naturedly. Inside, Darry was loudly telling Sodapop and Two-Bit how lucky they were that they had spilt water-based paint. I heard the ominous tone to his voice and winced, grateful I wasn't on the receiving end.

"What'd they do?" I asked.

He shot me a half-smile. "Well, originally they were just going to paint Soda's bedroom. But before that could happen, they got to tossin' that damn baseball around, Two-Bit missed his catch and now you got red paint all over the kitchen table. As you can imagine, Darry's not happy."

"Steve," I whispered, ducking away from the screen door. "You gotta come with me."

Oddly enough, the one person I could trust enough to take with me this evening was Steve Randle.

Imagine that.

He grunted. "Where?"

"Fulsom Lake. My dad used to take me fishing there."

"Hell no. I don't have time to baby-sit you. In fact, you're off your rocker if you think Darry's not going to notice you're gone again. He already knows you weren't out buying milk." He shook his head slowly. "You sure don't know when you quit do you?"

Ignoring him, I waltzed over to his truck and jumped in the passenger side. "Come on. I know it's hard but for once in your life don't be a jerk."

He considered that for a moment and then ran a hand through his dark hair. "You're lucky you're Soda's kid brother…" he told me as he approached his car and jumped in.

"Yeah, yeah Steve. I've heard it all before," I bitched at him as he started the ignition and pulled out of the drive. "Save it for my eulogy."

Steve glanced at me from the corner of his eye. "You know smarty, you forgot your fishing pole."

I smiled knowingly at him. "Who said I'm going fishing."

XXXX

If I was flat lining — and lord knows I had been for a long time – what would happen? Someone would shock the hell out of me.

Only this time, I had to take matters into my own hands. No one could save me except myself. Darry and Soda had tried. Even Two-Bit and Steve. But now it was my turn: I willingly needed to face death to live again. I was going to drown myself; choke one last time in the hopes that I could jumpstart my life.

Come full circle.

Steve and I stood facing the glassy lake. The water was calm, despite a cool breeze blowing. The trees ruffled and I shivered, wondering what lurked under the surface.

I would find out soon enough.

As Regina had suggested it was like a baptism. And boy, was I taking some leap of faith.

Staring at the water, I suddenly had my doubts. _Dallas, you'd better be right._

Steve glanced around warily. "So you want to tell me what this little trip is about?"

He glared at me as if I were wasting his precious time.

"Here, hold this." I took off my jacket and pushed it at Steve. Then, I waded into the water. It was ice cold and felt just like it had in my nightmares. A strange sensation of déjà vu hit me and I relaxed.

"Hey!" Steve exclaimed, not expecting what I had just done. "Get your ass out of there." He tried to grab my arm but I was too far in by then.

Steve was the right person to take. Darry'd never even let me have the chance to leave the house, Soda would freak out and even Two-Bit would have his qualms. Steve however, was not one to worry. I knew that.

Although, I was risking it all on the chance that he actually _cared_.

I rotated around to face Steve who stood on the bank and smirked at his fuming face. "Remember! You owe me!" I yelled at him, referencing the letter he had written me when I was over in Vietnam.

Then, taking a deep breath I dived under the water, floating to the bottom. The cold was all at once shocking and refreshing. Instantly my heart slowed and I opened my eyes to see streaming sunlight breaking through the surface.

It was calm. For once there was no one to bother me. No noise. It was like nothingness, where I could think of it all.

I smiled then and saw my world flash before me.

_Knives and fights and blood and war. Death. The fountain and the park. Drowning. Windrixville. Vietnam._

Things from the past that I tried not to think about. But I needed to. And in forcing it, I remembered myself. My life would never be what it had been…but at least I still had a life to be had.

Then…I remembered _it_. It came to me in a flicker and exploded under the water.

"_Nature's first green is gold…"_

_Now_, Dally said in my ear. _You got it kid._

And then I took a breath. I breathed in the water but before I could choke on it, darkness encircled me and I never felt so happy.

XXXX


	27. Chapter 27

This is the last chapter! So by golly, enjoy it! **Sniff** Please leave reviews. Thanks to EVERYONE for reading! You've all been awesome!

XXXX

One boy head strong  
Thinks that living here's just plain  
He's pushed down so hard  
You can hear him start to sink

And it's one last round of petty conversation  
You hold on boy 'cuz  
You won't go down like this  
Just roll over  
Lay down till it's more than you can take

-Matchbox 20

XXXX

Ponyboy's POV

Distantly, I was aware of a strange pounding on my chest. "Kid, if you are dead and I have to break this news to Soda, I swear to god…!" I heard Steve screaming hoarsely at someone.

_Oh wait. That was me. _

The thumping continued and I groaned weakly. My chest was burning, my lungs sputtering for air. My eyes fluttered open and Steve was leaning over me, one hand holding my wrist for a pulse. Suddenly, I jerked and then gave a loud gasp, which got caught in a cough. I began retching on the water erupting from my lungs. Quickly, Steve turned me onto my side, patting my back as watery gray liquid poured out from my mouth and onto the gravely bank of the river. I shut my eyes against the pain.

Then I was done. But I was so tired; all I could do was lay there limply, my mind whirling with the thought: _I am alive. I am alive._

"Kid, kid, come on stay with me." Steve's voice broke in. He rolled me onto my back and gently slapped my cold face. "Wake up. Say something, damn it."

Slowly my eyes opened. "Steve, I knew you cared," I croaked, my throat on fire.

Steve, mouth agape, stared at me for a moment, before erupting furiously. "Ponyboy, are you trying to give me a heart attack or something?!" But his voice ended up cracking into a sob. "I mean, shit!"

In dazed amazement, I whispered to myself, "I really dreamed this." It looked like those constant reminders of my scars, those nightmarish links to the past, had just saved my ass. My head lolled around as I noticed a fisherman gesturing frantically from the pay phone at the dock.

Steve, following my gaze, exhaled. "Jesus, I'm glad I had those coins on me." He kept his right hand on my wrist, gripping it firmly.

"I don't need an ambulance," I moaned, trying to collect by bearings.

"Shoot, I should have had him call one. But the first number I rattled off was yours." He scowled at me. "I wasn't exactly thinking clearly ten minutes ago."

"You had him call my brothers?" I asked anxiously, struggling to get up.

_Man, how was I going to explain this one? _

"Whoa. Don't give me that look." Steve gently pushed me back down and covered me with my jacket. "What did you want me to do? Waltz back home without you and say 'Oh, by the way Darry, I left Ponyboy at Fulsom Lake. Oh, you didn't hear? He had a slight accident…and he _drowned'_."

"Steve, you _do_ have a sense of humor," I laughed with exhaustion. "You've been taking lessons from Two-Bit again haven't you?"

"It wasn't funny!" he burst out, pounding the ground angrily. "You were under there so long. And man," he wiped his hair back, "I thought you were a goner." His eyes narrowed, scrutinizing me. "You're still blue." I shrank back, wondering if he'd slap me again, just to put some color back in my face.

"So, how tempting was it to let me drown?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He gawked at me. "Glory, I don't hate you kid. In fact, I probably _still_ owe you. You saved Soda's life by going over there for him and you saved mine. Because if he had been drafted, I'd be over there in a second." Steve cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "Although, that's one hell of a way to collect on a favor." He pointed at the lake.

"Look Steve," I said suddenly anxious. "Don't tell them that I…" I broke off, unsure of how to phrase it.

"That you what? Tried to off yourself? Ponyboy, that was the craziest thing you've ever done." Steve said, his voice wobbly.

"Thanks," I said, pulling myself up on my knees.

"Don't get wise smart ass. It was pretty stupid." Steve's face became serious as he stared intently at me. "Pony, you weren't really going to…"

"If you're asking me if tried to drown, then yes. If you're asking me if I wanted to die, then no."

"That doesn't make sense," Steve exclaimed with frustration.

"Exactly…" I trailed off, staring back at the water with fascination. I didn't completely grasp it myself…but things felt different. I felt better.

And before either of us could say anymore, we heard the squeal of Darry's pickup and the slams of the doors as they all bounded out. Two-Bit nearly falling over Sodapop in the process, their hands red from the paint. Darry, scanning the lake quickly, broke into a run when his eyes rested on Steve and me crouched on the bank.

"Here come the cavalry," Steve quipped with amusement.

"Tell them I fell in," I prepared Steve.

"Right. They're gonna believe that as much as I believe in Santa Claus and my Fairy Godmother." But he shot me a fast grin and I knew he'd try.

Soda got there first, falling down next to me. His arms reached out uncertainly, grabbing my cold hands. Soda took in my wet clothes, ashen face and blue lips. "Oh honey, what did you do?" he asked gently.

I opened my mouth to respond but instead I coughed and the leftover water I had in my lungs sputtered out. My hands flew to my lips trying to stop the flow. As I hacked away, Darry and Soda began to look more alarmed with every cough.

"Glory, Ponyboy. Say it, don't spray it," Two-Bit laughed uneasily.

"Now, why do you have to make everything weird?" Steve sighed with exasperation.

As my coughs subsided, Darry kneeling down too, examined my face. "What happened Pony?" He had that fearful look on his face, the one he had worn to the hospital the night I came back from Windrixville.

"The undertow was really strong," I explained slowly. "I just couldn't make it back. And then-"

"-And then when I saw he had gone under, I pulled him out," Steve finished for me. "Close call, but he made it." He grinned at Sodapop, trying to reassure his stricken best friend. "You need to work on your swim lessons, kid." He told me knowingly.

I bit back a laugh. For once we were accomplices.

"Good thing you were there," Two-Bit said softly to Steve. He stood there chain-smoking.

"Damn straight," Soda echoed.

I nodded mutely, eyes downcast. Darry, very pale, smoothed my wet hair back. His hand brought my chin up. "Look at me. You're not hurt are you?"

Staring at my brothers, I was hit with a wave of contentment. I had saved myself for them; I had saved myself because of them. "Darry, I've never been more right in my life." I smiled broadly.

Darry scanned my face and slowly nodded in relief. "Then let's get you home." He put his arm under mine and lifted me up. Then turning to Steve he clapped him on the back heartily. "Thank you."

Before we could walk back to the truck, I spun around and squinted into the setting sun. The lake glistened in the light.

"What's wrong?" Soda asked quizzically.

"I remembered the poem," I told them happily.

And finally, I could remember who I had been.

XXXX

Ok-the end! This long-ass story is finally complete! Wow! Final reviews much appreciated!

Thanks to everyone for reading…and I had so much fun writing it for all of you. Thanks for the great reviews…they spurred me on.

Also, I would like to write a fourth story…let me know if you have any ideas or what you'd want to see…I have a vague story forming…but we'll see.

Again…thanks everyone!


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